


Peach Pie and French Fries

by burningupasun



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Diners, Diners, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningupasun/pseuds/burningupasun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Daryl had ridden into town with Merle, the plan had been to only stay for as long as it took Merle to get his job done. Only Merle had gotten caught dealing and sent to prison, leaving Daryl alone in a small, gossip-filled Georgia town. But it wasn't so bad. He had an attic room and a sweet old landlady, and a job as the fry cook at a local diner. It was easy. Calm. And then Beth Greene showed up to be the diner's newest waitress, and his 'easy' job became far more distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, I have so many other fics I should be working on. But this idea popped into my head, inspired by a gif-set I saw (and Emily Kinney's role in the Bulletproof Picasso video) and after the little ficlet I wrote seemed so popular, I had to get it out. I promise, I will update my other fics soon. (Especially once my anxiety about TWD coming back gets better.) In the meantime I hope you enjoy this little prologue/first chapter!

“You sure you’re alright, Mrs. Wilson? I got that light fixed for you, an’ tomorrow I’ll look at that door y’ say is creakin’, alright?” Daryl leaned against the frame of the back door of the old Victorian house owned by his sweet old landlady. Mrs. Wilson had lived here since she was 18 and she’d moved in with her husband; it had been his family’s home before that. The truth of the matter was, it was far too big a house for an old lady whose children had long since moved away, and whose husband had died over ten years ago. But Mrs. Wilson was stubborn, and Daryl admired that. She refused to move away, not when she was still (mostly) mobile, and she refused to let her children convince her to move into a retirement home.

So she remained, in an old house that creaked and groaned, where more things seemed to fall apart every day. Alone, until he’d shown up a few months ago and answered the ‘room available’ add in the small local paper. Merle had been all for staying in some shitty motel just outside of town the way they always did when they rolled into some new town for a job, but Daryl had been just so tired of it. Tired of it all, really. Dirty motel rooms and cheap sheets, rooms lit by flashing vacancy signs, constantly moving and never settling as Merle moved from connection to connection peddling drugs or whatever else he could get money for.

He’d decided he’d had enough. That was how he’d ended up here, renting the attic room of Mrs. Wilson’s old Victorian. The original arrangement had just been for him to pay rent; for a few hundred a month he got the bedroom and the nearest bathroom, and use of the kitchen. It was more than he needed, really. Over time his role in her home had slowly but surely increased; he helped her around the house, did some repairs, fixed up the car she kept out in the garage, mowed the lawn… 

Merle would have teased him endlessly for helping the old broad out, but Merle wasn’t around anymore and that was a good part of why Daryl was still here, actually. Merle’s local job had gone bad, his brother had ended up in jail for at least a few years, and Daryl had been stuck here in this tiny town full of gossips. If it had happened anywhere else, he might have been angry. Stuck in some dirty hole of a town, in a crappy motel room where he didn’t know anyone.

But here? Here wasn’t so bad. Mrs. Wilson was sweet, even if she did always overcook the ham she liked to make on Sundays. The attic room was nice and cool when he opened the windows, and he kind of enjoyed spending his free time fixing things up around the house, or working on the old classic Chevy that Mr. Wilson had kept in the garage before his death. Plus, he had a good job. It hadn’t been much, to start. In fact the diner had just been the first place he’d stumbled onto with a ‘hiring’ sign, and no one cared too much if the fry cook in the back looked a little rough or rode a motorcycle to work, as long as he kept the kitchen running and got the food out on time. It had been an easy job, for the first couple months. Key word: _had been_. 

“Oh I’m fine, dear boy.” Seated at her kitchen table, the old woman gave a wave of her hand at him before settling it back around her cup of tea. “You go on in to work now, alright? I’ll see you this evening.” 

As he turned to go with a quiet nod, he heard her voice drifting out of the back door, “And you say hello to your pretty blonde friend for me, boy…” 

Daryl just shook his head as he let the door close behind him, cause that ‘pretty blonde’ she mentioned was the exact reason why things at the diner had suddenly gotten _far_ more complicated than he’d ever planned. 

Her name was Beth Greene. She’d started as a waitress there about a month ago, after Rosita had run off to marry her army boyfriend Abe. The first day she’d come into work, her blonde hair back in a perfect swishing ponytail, her blue eyes bright and shining, a warm little smile on her full pink lips… Daryl had known, deep down inside, that he was screwed. That had been the first time he’d ever burned a burger in the diner, and unfortunately it wasn’t the last, especially in the girl’s first week or so on the job. It wasn’t _his_ fault she was so distracting, was it? It wasn’t his fault that sometimes he’d just get drawn to her smile or her laugh and forget what he was cooking!

He’d figured that was all it’d be, anyway, her the somewhat distracting waitress, always on the other side of the counter like the other waitresses who had kept their eye on him long enough to be sure he wouldn’t try anything, and then commenced just ignoring him unless they needed something. But that wasn’t Beth, and it hadn’t been from the start. 

Daryl still felt a twinge of embarrassment remembering her first day there, when she’d popped into the kitchen and startled him so much that he’d nearly dropped a plate of fries on the floor. 

“Whoops!” Beth had giggled as she’d caught the plate and offered it back up to him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you! My Daddy always says I can be way too quiet for my own good sometimes. Well, when I walk, not otherwise, cause he also says I could chatter a man’s ears right off without even trying. Oh, see? I’m doing it right now!” 

And he’d just been standing there staring at her like some gap-mouthed idiot, torn between wondering why the hell she was talking to him and being oddly fascinated by the faint flush that stole across the apples of her cheeks. “I’m Beth, by the way.” She'd stuck out her hand almost formally. “Beth Greene. And you are?” 

He'd grunted a reply, and it took him a moment to realize that wasn’t actually his name. By then he’d already moved around her towards the grill to check and make sure he wasn’t going to burn another burger, but when he’d glanced over his shoulder at her he’d seen a faint hint of disappointment in her eyes. Maybe that was what had prompted him to reply lowly and quickly, “Daryl Dixon.” 

“Daryl Dixon.” His name had never sounded musical before, but somehow, it had when she’d said it. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Daryl. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He’d never have believed it, even with the sweet smile on her lips. Except later he’d overheard her talking to Sasha, one of the other waitresses who mostly seemed to avoid him. “Who, Daryl? He’s quiet, doesn’t talk much at all. I mean I’m not saying he’s a bad guy or nothing, but I don’t figure he’s a good one, you know? I heard some things, about his brother…”

But as the woman trailed off, he heard Beth’s sweet voice break in, “I don’t know. He seemed nice to me, and I always trust my instincts. Just you wait, I’ll get to know him better.” 

And she did. He’d expected her to give up, honestly. Figured it was some whim, maybe some silly challenge for her; the sweet country farm girl chatting up the rough looking fry cook. But it never seemed like that, when she leaned over the counter to chat with him. She always asked about his day before babbling away about her own, and he grew to kind of enjoy the periods where she’d slip back into the kitchen, or when the diner would go into a slow period and she’d lean into the doorway or over the counter window and just talk to him. 

His favorite part of working with her, though, was when they both got assigned the closing shift. Dinner went from five to eight, and then they shut down for the evening; it was a small town, and they had no need of a 24 hour diner, what with no major roads coming close enough for the commuter trade. With every other waitress, it was a silent and quick routine; close it up as soon as possible and get the hell out of there.

Not Beth, though. With Beth… well, it was almost like it was fun. As soon as the last customer was out the door she’d lock up and turn off half the lights, and then it was straight to the jukebox. She’d gotten the key from the owner, the one that let her play as many songs as she wanted without putting in quarters. She had a thing for the girl singers, he’d noticed that. Patsy Cline was one of her favorites, but she’d listen to slightly more modern stuff, too, like Dolly, or Wynonna. (She’d told him once she liked plenty of other music, too, but the jukebox only played good ole country music, so that was their soundtrack each evening.)

The first song would come on and she’d grab that broom and go dancing across the floor with it as she swept. " _Now let me tell you, my heart's so busy jumpin' that it skips a beat, got me runnin' round in circles, dancin' in the street._ " Like he’d said, it was more fun with Beth than it was a job. Which was a good thing, because it always took him twice as long to get the kitchen clean when he was distracted watching her dance through the diner, or sing along in that sweet, breathy little voice of hers. Mostly he just listened; he couldn’t sing for crap, but he wasn’t gonna join in even if he’d been able to sing. 

Or so he’d always said. Until that one night the jukebox wasn’t working, and Beth had looked so damn disappointed. (He didn’t know he’d had just as much disappointment on his face, too.) He hadn’t known what the hell to do, all he knew was that he’d do just about anything to get that sorrow off her pretty face. So without thinking, he’d just started drumming out a beat on the counter. She’d looked up at him with her eyebrow raised and he’d just chuckled and teased, “What? Ain’t no jukebox, right? C’mon, Greene. Sing for us.” 

That had been one of the best closing nights he’d ever had, with nothing but her voice filling every corner of that small diner, and the sight of her little blue skirt spinning around her as she spun in slow circles with the broom, sweeping the checkered floor.

They had other routines, too, other things that were just their’s. Like his habit of passing her a little plate of fries right before she went on her lunch break. He knew she didn’t make much for her wage; everything the waitresses got was mostly from tips and it was a small town. Beth’d told him that she was living with a friend of hers, a young girl named Amy. There’d been a whole funny story once about how her and Amy both had overly protective sisters, both of whom had showed up one day and insisted on trying to help them out, buy them furniture or food, give them money, until Beth and Amy had refused every over. Beth was determined to support herself and Daryl truly admired that. It was what he’d done his whole life, after all.

But he didn’t like the idea of her going hungry, either, so he did his own small part with the fries at lunch, or the little container of food to go home with on the nights they closed together. It was never much; an extra burger, some fries, some corn or salad. She’d only protested a few times before she started to just take it with a sweet smile. The first time she’d accepted it without protest had also been the first time she’d given him something in return; fishing out a small plate from under the counter and sliding it down the counter to him with a grin. Peach pie, his favorite, with a dollop of whipped cream on top. Over time, that became another little tradition. Peach pie for him, and french fries for her. 

The memories had a smile on Daryl’s lips as he made his way around the side of Mrs. Wilson’s house to the garage, where he kept his bike (well, Merle’s bike, but basically his now) beside the old Chevy he’d been working on. Tonight, he and Beth were on the dinner shift again, and lord knew he was looking forward to it. Hell, forget the Lord, even _Mrs. Wilson_ knew he was looking forward to it. The old broad was far more perceptive than people might’ve expected, considering her advanced age. Then again, he hadn’t exactly been as private as he normally was. She couldn’t have failed to notice that his few stories from work always revolved around a certain blonde waitress, or that the usually gruff and reticent Daryl smiled a little every time he brought her up.

It had been Mrs. Wilson who had pointed out something that had seemed blindingly obvious the moment she said it. “You like that girl,” she’d said bluntly over her cup of evening tea. “You ask her out, boy. She sounds sweet. I reckon she’d be good for you.” 

_You like that girl_. Four simple words, but they’d cut right to the heart of the matter and he couldn’t deny the truth of them. He hadn’t been able to, since. He’d burned three burgers this week, for the first time since a month ago and Beth’s first week at the diner, because he hadn’t been able to focus ever since the realization had hit him. He kept getting distracted by the way she smiled at him, or her little habit of twining her stray curl of hair around her finger while they talked. He kept watching her laugh, the way she lit up every time, how everyone in the diner seemed to drawn to her genuine warmth. 

But each time he’d thought about saying something, about maybe even asking her out, he’d just kept thinking about wrong it probably was. A man like him- the sort of man everyone in town gossiped about constantly, no matter that he’d not done a single thing wrong, no matter that he spent his days working at the diner and helping out Mrs. Wilson- had no place asking out a girl like her. Beth was sweet, kind, loved by everyone and never gossiped about in the same way he was, no, the only gossip about her was if she was seeing anyone and if so-and-so thought she might be interested in their son or nephew or cousin, because wasn’t she just so sweet and pretty?

A rough guy like him, one with a checkered past and a brother in jail probably had no right asking her out. Lord, would they all gossip if he even dared, let alone if she said yes. But he wanted to. He wanted to ask out Beth Greene. He wanted to see that smile outside of the diner, wanted to hear her laugh out in the crisp warm air. The idea just wouldn’t go away, and finally, he caved. It had taken him a full week after realizing to work up the nerve, but tonight he was going to do it. Tonight he was going to ask out Beth Greene. 

As he climbed onto his bike and drove the short distance to the diner at the center of town, he kept running over in his mind what he was going to say. _Will you go out with me_ seemed the simplest, for obvious reasons, and yet it somehow didn’t seem enough in comparison to the mental image of her in his mind; that sweet smile and those warm, welcoming eyes. She deserved more than just a boring, basic request and yet he didn’t know if he was capable of anything else. He wasn’t exactly the eloquent type, wasn’t even a talker. He knew he couldn’t just _grunt_ at her, he had to say something, but what?

Over and over he churned the words in his head, right up until he parked his bike behind the diner, climbed off, and headed inside. Cause there she was, scrubbing over the counter, and when the bell above the door jingled she looked up and flashed him the brightest, warmest smile ever, making it absolutely impossible to think, let alone worry. He just wanted to ask her out, that was all he wanted. All he had to do now was make it through the next six hours, and then he could do it. He just prayed he’d keep his nerve… and that she’d say yes.

*** 

Though Beth proved to be a distraction as always, he’d somehow managed not to burn any burgers so far, by the halfway point of his shift. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. As he popped out the back for a smoke break, the door opened next to him and there she was, in that little blue dress all the waitresses wore, with her hair drawn back and a stray curl dangling by her cheek. He’d learned by now not to offer her a smoke; she always said no, but she didn’t seem to mind standing out there with him, side-by-side as he exhaled smoke into the cooling evening air. 

“You having a good day so far?” 

He hummed his agreement to her question with a little nod. 

“I noticed you haven’t burned a single burger yet today…” Was his mistaken, or was there a knowing smile on her lips as she looked him over? He couldn’t quite be sure, but then she giggled up at him, and bumped her shoulder against him and he just _knew_ she was teasing. “Keep it up,” Beth joked, mischief lighting her big blue eyes. “I’ve got a bet with the other girls that you won’t burn one today. You don’t want to let me down, do you?”

It was only when she was up the steps and halfway through the door that he managed to reply gruffly, “Never.” 

He wouldn’t have been sure if she’d even heard, except she paused, looked over her shoulder, and flashed him another slow smile. It was a good thing he’d been outside and not in the kitchen, because he’d have burned at least four burgers for the pleasure of watching her smile like that. 

*** 

The night seemed to go on forever. Daryl thought it would never be 8:00pm, that maybe time had slowed down or even stopped, just to fuck with him. Wouldn’t be the first time life had tried to screw him over but this time, anyway, Daryl was pretty sure he was just being dramatic. Soon enough it was 7:30, and the diner’s residents had dwindled down to one lone man sitting at the counter.

Daryl’d had his eyes on the man from the moment he’d come into the diner. He was a regular, but not the good kind. There were always those kind of distinctions. There were the regulars you perked up at the sight of, the ones whose orders the girls’ memorized and brought over with a grin, the ones they saved extra slices of pie for or set things aside to share with. Then there were regulars like this, the ones that had a frown instantly crossing the waitresses’ faces before they did their best to hide them, the ones that had even Beth’s constant sweet smile faltering as it had ever since the man had come into the diner. 

Daryl tried to stay focused, prepping food for tomorrow but glancing up in between just to keep his eye on things just in case... and it turned out, that was for good reason. He looked up and there that man was, leaning over the counter to grab a handful of Beth’s ass as she bent over to fetch something from under the counter. In an instant, Daryl saw red as a raging fire filled his veins.. It roared through his head as his pulse pounded in his ears and he growled low and ferocious as he stripped off his apron, threw it to the ground, and rushed right to the kitchen door.

But he only made it halfway through before he realized Beth already had it under control. She’d grabbed a ketchup bottle of all things, pointed it at the man, and began to squeeze it all across his face and his clean white shirt. As the man began to sputter and put his hands up, Beth stopped, but only to jab the bottle at him. She was like a wild cat standing there; if she had hackles he knew they’d be up. Her feet were braced, one hand on her hip as she pointed at the asshole with the ketchup bottle and spat out, “You get out! Right now! And don’t you dare come back here ever, you hear me?” 

Now it was his cue, not that he thought Beth truly needed him. As he saw the man begin to open his mouth as if to protest, Daryl came up slowly behind Beth and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. That seemed to be all it took for the man to freeze and go wide-eyed before grabbing his keys and hurry off, dripping ketchup in his wake as he went. 

Beth turned to him slowly, giving him enough time to see the fire in her big, wide eyes. And then, completely unexpectedly, she burst into giggles and the fire disappeared. “Did you- Did you see- his _face_?” She choked out the words in between laughter, and Daryl felt a smile beginning to tug at his own lips, too. A rarity, but one that seemed to happen more and more when he was in Beth’s presence. 

“You really got him good with that ketchup, girl.” Daryl chuckled, and without thinking he reached up to rub the lapel of her dress between his fingers. “Looks like you got yourself a bit, too.” 

“Oh lord.” She looked down at the ketchup stain with a sigh. 

“C’mon.” Daryl’s voice was faintly gruff, but his gaze lingered on her as he lead the way back into the kitchen and over to the sink. Before he could guide her anymore, Beth took the initiative to hop up onto the counter beside it, dangling her legs in front of her in a way which was rather distracting if he were being honest. He did his best not to stare; that was probably the last thing she needed after what she’d just gone through.

But that image of her all fierce and fiery in defense of herself lingered in his mind as he dampened a cloth and began to gently clean away the stain on her uniform. He kept remembering the fire in her eyes and then the way she’d turned and just laughed, as bright and happy as always. She kept cycling around in his mind, laughing and smiling and giggling and singing and shouting, and when he looked up at her and saw her just inches away, a soft smile on her lips even now, the words came spilling right out of him. “Would you maybe wanna get dinner with me tonight, Beth? Not, uh- Not at the diner, I mean.” 

Earlier he’d discarded the words as too simple, but in the moment, they seemed right. He was a simple man after all, and there was nothing wrong with that. Judging by the smile on Beth’s lips, she agreed. She just looked into his eyes with that sweet expression on her face, and breathed back with a soft little laugh,“As long as there’s no ketchup.”

“No ketchup,” Daryl agreed with a chuckle of his own. “Deal.” 

As his reply trailed off, he caught himself just looking into her big blue eyes as if he were mesmerized; by her, by the fact that he was pretty sure she’d just said yes to a date with him, by all of it. To his amazement Beth wasn’t saying a word either; she was just looking right back at him with that damn sweet little smile on her lips, and he just felt like he had to do _something_. Anything.

But just as he drew in a breath to say something (what, he had no idea), they both heard the jingle of the bell as the front door of the diner opened. Her gaze lingered a second more and then Beth was hopping down off the counter, her body sliding lightly against his in the process. “Be right there!” She called out through the window with a grin. But before she left she turned, leaned up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Half an hour left until we close. I’m looking forward to it.” 

As he watched her walk away with a hint of a bounce and sway to her step, the heat of her kiss lingering on his cheek, Daryl knew without a doubt that he was looking forward to it, too. Just as he knew that stopping in this random town and taking the first job he’d seen had probably been the best decision he’d ever made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seems like it'll be another multi-chapter fic, too, though hopefully not too long. It depends on how much people like it and how the muse is.


	2. Dolly, Dancing, and No Ketchup!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is determined to give Beth the first dinner (date) that she deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this is just exactly what I need right now, so I hope you all enjoy the fluff as much as I have! (Just FYI, the towns/cities mentioned in this are based on real places, however I've taken some artistic liberties as I've never been to any of them before, so I'm making up a few things as needed.)

  


The minutes between 7:30 and 8:00pm were some of the longest Daryl could remember ever experiencing. Not that he didn’t have anything keeping him busy; while Beth helped out their last customer, Daryl had done his part by cleaning up the ketchup mess left across the counter. With Beth’s appreciative smile at his help lingering in his mind, he’d headed back into the kitchen to finish the prep for tomorrow, though the entire time he couldn’t seem to stop himself from glancing up at her through the window. He couldn’t help it; he was just amazed that he’d not only gotten up the nerve to ask her to dinner, but she’d said _yes_. 

He even pinched himself once, biting back a hiss that had Beth casting a concerned glance over her shoulder at him until he gave her a reassuring nod. Nope, definitely not dreaming. At least, _probably_ not dreaming, he wasn’t entirely sure how that whole pinch yourself thing worked, would pinching yourself in a dream really wake you up?

This and other nonsensical thoughts rambled through his mind as he worked away the remaining time, every inch of him looking forward to the moment the night of work would finally be over. It came at last with a series of now-familiar sounds: the turn of the door lock, the soft ‘snick’ of the ‘open’ sign being flipped to closed, the click of one of the light switches being turned and then of course, Beth’s bright voice calling out, “Lights out and we finally made it!” 

Daryl leaned through the kitchen window, resting his arms on the cool surface and watching her as she crossed the checkered floor and headed right to the jukebox. “What an eventful day,” she called back to him, flashing him a smile over her shoulder before turning back to the jukebox, “I think we deserve some Dolly to liven us up, yeah?” His only reply was a nod, but that was enough for them both. She took that agreement, and he took the chance to just watch her and wonder how she managed to look so… bright and cheery and happy, even after a long day of work; especially after one like today when some asshole had pawed at her ass. 

But there she was, grinning as she punched a button on the jukebox. The moment [the music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaERHs8Q93E) kicked in she was spinning around with the broom in her hand. He hadn’t even realized she’d taken off her shoes until she went gliding across the floor in her socks, singing out brightly, “ _Tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition. Yawnin’, stretchin’, try to come to life._ ”

Beth came to a stop right across from his window, still on the other side of the counter as she flashed him a silly grin. Holding the broom in one hand, she started to do a playful little two-step as she kept on singing in that sweet, breathy voice of hers, “ _Jumpin’ in the shower and the blood starts pumpin’, out on the streets the traffic starts jumpin’, with folks like me on the job from 9 to 5!_ ” He watched, mesmerized as she tipped her head back in a laugh, the loose tendrils of hair flying around her head as she spun around in a circle.

She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. The kinda girl he’d never felt like he had the right to look at for too long, if at all. She was the kind of girl he glanced at from the corners of his eyes; all soft sweaters and sundresses and perfect shining hair. Not for him, not for the boy who’d grown up as trailer trash, not for the man who’d spent most of his life following around after his brother, helping him sell drugs and being his silent muscle, never really having anything of his own that was good. That man never would have dared to look at her too long; like she were the sun and looking too long would burn him for being unworthy. But now? Maybe it was this town, maybe it was Mrs. Wilson… maybe it was the fact that he had a nice place and a good job and he was finally making a life, even if it was a small one. What the reason was, now he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. 

When Beth faced him again she gripped the broom in both hands and pointed the handle at him as she belted out, “ _Workin’... 9 to 5, what a way to make livin’, barely gettin’ by, it’s all takin’ and no givin’_ -” She broke off mid-chorus, flashing him a brilliant grin that had his stomach unexpectedly leaping up into his throat as she exclaimed, “Come on, Daryl Dixon! Don’t you wanna dance with me?” 

He couldn’t help being drawn to her, though he got about as far as the open door before he came to a stop, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her sweeping the floor with a sway of her hips and a bounce in her steps. “You know I ain’t no dancer, girl. Don’t let me stop you, though.” 

“ _It’s a.. rich man’s game, no matter what they call it, and you spend your life puttin’ money in his wallet!!_ ” With another laugh, she spun around again, this time almost tipping over because of the slide of her socks on the ground. He was halfway to her before they both caught themselves; her by getting her balance on the nearby table and him curling his fingers around the edge of the counter to stop himself from reaching out to her. (Though he couldn’t deny he liked imagining sliding his arm around her waist to keep steady, liked wondering if she’d fit against his side the way he imagined she might.)

“Well,” Beth breathed out, brushing her hair out of her face to tuck it behind her ears as the song ended. “If you’re not gonna dance with me, how about we decide where we’re going tonight for dinner? No ketchup, remember!”

Daryl opened his mouth to answer, only to close it after a moment and grunt faintly as he realized… he’d not thought that far ahead. He’d been so concerned with what to say and not assuming she’d say yes that he’d never thought to plan out what he’d do if she _did_ say yes! 

“You know I never mind your grunts, Mr. Dixon, but that’s definitely not any restaurant I know of.” Beth teased him gently, a smile on her lips that softened the edge of any playful remark as she slowly swept her way towards him, filling his silence with suggestions, “Well if we stay in Roopville, our only options are the bar and grill, or that little cafe in the square. _Both_ of which have ketchup, for the record.” 

Daryl’s brow furrowed and without pausing to think it over he said roughly, “An’ I ain’t takin’ you to a bar for our first… for dinner.” 

“For our first dinner, hm?” 

Lord, that sweet playful smile she was givin’ him was gonna be the death of him. Daryl tried to get a hold of himself as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and hide the fact that she flustered him so damn much. The problem was, the only other voice he had giving him advice right now was Merle’s, and there weren’t no way he was gonna listen to _that_ voice.

“Well,” Beth went on after a moment, “I know a few good places in Carrollton. There’s this _great_ chinese food place near the campus, and I know they don’t have ketchup-” She grinned again. “-but it’d probably be filled with students, this time of night.” 

Carrollton, he knew, was where Beth was going to school part-time. She was taking classes at University of Western Georgia; right now she went up there on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for one class, while she took the other online. He knew, not because he was stalking her or nothing, but because she told him about things like that and he always remembered what she told him. Well that, and because those were the days they always closed together, since Beth would come in for the evening shift after her class ended, like she had today. 

For a moment he stood there, ruminating on her mention of Chinese food and college kids and the kind of night he wanted to give her… and then, finally, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Got an’ idea,” he remarked as he stood up straight. 

“Ooh, what is it?” Her eyes lit up as she held the broom in front of her, and fuck if that curiosity on her face didn’t make him want to just spill his plan right then and there.

But he stayed strong. “Uh uh,” he teased, shaking his head. “You’re just gonna have to wait, Greene. It’s a surprise. And no pushin’ to get me to tell, y’hear?” 

“Alriiight, _Mr._ Dixon.” She drew out the word with a playful little grin, and the way she turned and made her way back to the jukebox with a sway of her hips almost had him following right after him. “I’ll be good,” Beth added over her shoulder as she pressed another button to select the next song. “For now, anyway.” 

*** 

About 20 mins later, they were done for the night and Beth had reached in to flip the last light switch before she closed the door behind them. Daryl stood just a foot in front of her in the back lot, and as she slipped the key into her pocket she looked up at him with a smile. “So. Where to, Mr. Dixon?” 

Ignoring the little thrill he got when she called him that, Daryl just hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, and drawled, “You ever ride a motorcycle, Greene?” 

“No.” She breathed out the word and as she looked up at him, her big blue eyes seemed even brighter. “But I’ve always wanted to. Every time I saw you ride up on yours.” 

“Well then.” Doing his best not to think too much about Beth Greene watching him riding up on his bike and wanting to join him, he gestured off to the right where said bike was parked against the wall. “Interested in givin’ it a try, tonight?”

“Oh yes!” She surprised him by laughing again, almost bouncing as she cut in front of him and headed to the bike. Now she circled around it, running her fingers lightly over the seat before looking up at him with a big, excited grin. “You really mean it? You’re not just teasin’ me?”

“I ain’t teasin’ you.” He kept his eyes on hers as he shifted onto the bike, straddling the seat and reaching back to pat the space behind him. “Hop on, girl. An’ you better hold on tight, alright?” 

For just a moment, their eyes held and he saw something in her gaze that made a hint of heat stir in his bellyright along with the damn leaping sensation he always seemed to get around her these days. He’d have scolded himself for acting like a damn teenager, but then she came up behind him and stretched up her long leg to straddle the motorcycle seat, and all he could focus on was the feeling of her pressed against his back with her arms slowly wrapping around his waist. 

She felt so warm behind him with her chest pressed to his back, and the palms of her hands flat on his stomach. Beth distracted him even more by leaning in close, her lips by his ear as she replied softly, “You think I’d want to do anything else, other than hold on tightly to you?” 

Daryl wouldn’t allow himself to think too much about any double meaning in that, though some part of his mind was busily racing away with it. Instead he looked down, focusing on her long bare legs beneath that short waitress uniform she wore, and a frown pulled down his lips. He was comfortably dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, something that could easily go from work to dinner, even if the smell of frying oil did linger a bit. But her…

“I’ll stop at your place first, so you can change, if y’ want.” 

“Alright.” He heard the smile in her voice as she settled her chin on his shoulder. “But I’ll be quick. I don’t wanna miss any of our first… _dinner_ , together.” 

With her playful tone echoing through his mind, Daryl started up the engine and took off, as soon as he was sure she was ready and holding tightly to his waist. He went slower than usual, for her sake, but if Beth noticed he couldn’t tell. She was too busy laughing, her giggling breathing out against his ear as she kept her arms snug around his waist.

He’d always loved being on this bike, taking the chance to ride it whenever Merle had let him. He’d enjoyed it more and more, since it’d become his with Merle away in jail, but he’d never loved it as much as he did now, with Beth tucked up behind him and sounding happier than he could’ve imagined to be driving down the streets with him, the wind ruffling her pale blue skirt and making her hair go loose and fly back behind her. 

The town was small, and the place where Beth lived was just a few streets over. Roopville wasn’t exactly the kind of place that had actual apartment buildings, so Beth rented just like Daryl did. She and her friend Amy were living in the small house next to the Roopville Baptist Church; generally the home belonged to the Pastor, but the current one had a large family that just wouldn’t fit. Beth had told him the story once back when she’d first started; her Daddy was friends with their pastor back home, who was friends with the Roopville pastor, who said that she and her friend Amy could rent the little house next door for a reasonable amount, since the town was just a short distance from the college they’d both gotten into. Beth, he knew, sang in the church choir there on Sundays, just another thing on the long list of why she was the kind of girl this town saw as perfect and he was, well… not. 

Even pulling up with his loud motorcycle in front of the small white house made him feel out of place, but when Beth slipped off his bike and gave him a grin, he found it hard to feel too bad about it. Not when she was smiling at him like that. “I’ll be back in five minutes, I promise. Don’t you disappear now, alright?” 

“I ain’t plannin’ on it.” Though he did plan on taking advantage of her absence, and once she’d made her way inside he pulled out his beat-up cell-phone and got to work.

Five minutes later on the dot, everything was all set and so, it seemed, was Beth. The door to that little white house opened and there she was, drawing his attention straight to her. She’d changed out of her waitresses dress into a pair of blue jeans and a pretty little yellow blouse. Her hair was drawn back into a ponytail, but as she got closer he could see her trademark little braid all bound up in it, and on her feet she wore a pair of brown cowboy boots that he could tell were well-loved, judging by the scuff marks on them. 

“I just realized,” Beth remarked with a soft, almost shy smile as she came up to him again. “You’ve never really seen me in something other than my uniform. I mean, besides around town here and there.” 

“Never up close.” He looked her over slowly, before it hit him that maybe he was taking liberties being so openly admiring. Clearing his throat, Daryl looked up at her and right into those big damn eyes. _They_ were what chased away his mental refrain of ‘say something polite, say something simple’ and had him instead blurting out, “You look real nice, Beth.” 

Embarrassment would have had him flushing, if he were that type (and thank the lord he wasn’t), but maybe it was worth it for the slow pleased smile that curved up her lips as she replied sweetly, “Thank you.” She lingered there for just a moment before climbing up behind him again to wrap her arms around his waist. Up this close he could smell her stronger, the scent of sweetness and strawberries filling his nose and making him wonder if she’d put on some kind of perfume or lotion or lipgloss or _something_. As he tried to think through the distracting sweet scent, she murmured in his ear, “You ready to show me your surprise plans, Mr. Dixon?” 

As he turned the key and revved the engine, all he said was a gruff, “Hold on tight.” By his standards, it was damn near playful.

*** 

It was about fifteen minutes from Roopville to Carrollton, which was just about the amount of time he’d needed for his plan to be set. He brought the bike to a stop outside New China Chinese and climbed off, but shook his head when Beth moved to follow him. “Nuh uh, you stay right there, we ain’t eatin’ here.” 

“Daryl!” She crinkled up her nose at him, just about the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen but somehow, he resisted. 

“I’ll be right back.” And sure enough he was, coming back out in under five minutes with a bag of food under his arm. “C’mon” he remarked, waving aside her curious looks as he flipped open a bag strapped to the side of the bike and gently slipped their food inside. “Just a short drive, and then we can eat.” 

Despite the scent of Chinese food making his stomach rumble, Daryl stuck to his plans and climbed back onto the bike, taking off and heading towards the spot he had in mind. It was worth the wait and the self control it took to resist her curious questions, without a doubt. Especially when he helped Beth off the bike and led the way up to the ridge that overlooked the lake stretched out below. The first time he’d found this place just driving aimlessly on his bike looking for the local hunting spots, the lake had been filled with campers and visitors, but tonight it was quiet. The water rippled just faintly beneath them, reflecting the stars bright in the sky up above, and the whole thing was just plain peaceful, since all the swimmers and visitors and fishers had gone home for the day.

“Oh, Daryl…” Beth stood in the grass on top of the ridge and spun in a slow circle, taking in the trees behind and the lake below and the big bright moon, hanging high in the sky above and lighting the evening for them. “This is perfect.” 

“It ain’t exactly perfect…” Daryl couldn’t resist arguing that, even scuffing his foot on the grass as he added, “I ain’t got nothin’ for us to sit on, no blanket or nothin’. Would have, if I’d planned this in advance, but I kinda came up with it on the spurr of the moment an’ all. Didn’t exactly think you’d say yes, you know… if I ever got up the nerve to ask.” 

“Well I did.” Beth lowered herself to the grass and crossed her legs underneath her as she smiled up a him. “And it’s perfect. Or it will be, if you’ll come sit down here and share that delicious smelling food, Mr. Dixon.” 

He couldn’t have resisted her even if he wanted to. With a faint little smile Daryl took a seat on the ground in front of her and watched as she unpackaged the food and began to pull out the cartons. 

“Pork-fried rice? Dumplings? Orange chicken? Broccoli?” She looked up at him, surprise and pleasure filling her eyes. “These are all my favorites, Daryl! How did you know?”

“You told me a story once, remember?” He shrugged, as if it were nothing. “About you an’ Amy staying up late, ordering all this and crammin’ all night for your mid-term?” 

She’d been holding a carton of orange chicken in her hands, but slowly lowered it into her lap at his words. “You _remember_ that?” 

“I remember every story you tell me, Beth.” Daryl looked up at her, his brow furrowed as if it were completely obvious. Which it was, to him. 

To his surprise, all she did was blink. Beth Greene, who always had something to say- always had a laugh on her lips or a teasing playful joke in response- only right then all she seemed able to do was breathe out softly in reply, “ _Oh_.” 

Her silence didn’t last for too long, though he couldn’t help noticing that the little smile she’d given him after lingered on her face even as she began to talk again. They spent almost an hour eating, nibbling on bites of food in between their chatter. Well, mostly her chatter, despite the fact that he’d grown more comfortable with her, Daryl was still not the talkative type. Somehow though, she seemed to understand each little grunt or hum, each nod of his head or shrug of his shoulder. She even seemed to take it easily as his part of the conversation, weaving her own words in between his silences, taking his responses as punctuation to her stories. 

Her stories ranged from her friend Amy and how they’d met (“Well, Amy’s older sister Andrea became friends with Mr. and Mrs. Grimes, after Mr. Grimes helped her out on one of her civil rights cases. Anyway, I’ve been babysitting for the Grimes family for years, since their daughter Judith was born, and two years ago they had this big cook-out, and Andrea brought Amy and well, that was that!”), to her time spent at school (“Like I told you, I’m studying music at UWG. I wanna teach it, someday, to little kids if I get my way and Daddy always says I get my way when I set my mind to something.”), and of course, to her family and their farm. All of Beth’s stories were happy and bright, but especially the ones that involved her family.

“So this calf just will _not_ stay in it’s pen, right? Every day we find it somewhere new; by the barn, over by the creek, running through the field, only none of us can figure out how the heck it’s gettin’ loose, and let me tell you, we were _really_ lookin’ after the time it took me and Maggie _and_ Shawn to get it back to it’s Ma. You should have seen the three of us, covered in mud from trying to corner it in the field after it rained! Maggie was _spittin’_ mad, of course it didn’t help that Shawn and I just couldn’t stop laughing, and then finally-” He’d been watching her talk all animatedly as always, but mid-sentence he noticed the way a tendril of hair had fallen from her ponytail to curl across her cheek. Without thinking he reached out as if to tuck it back only to catch himself at the last minute, his fingers hovering a scant distance from her skin.

Beth broke off in a pause, and then to his surprise she tilted her head ever-so-lightly into his touch, encouraging him silently to continue the movement and tuck her hair behind her ear. The warmth of her skin seemed to linger in his fingers as he drew back, just as he could see a faint flush lingering on her cheeks when she drew in a soft breath and continued, “So finally we set up a watch in shifts- Maggie’s plan, of course- and you wouldn’t believe what this calf was doing. She was climbing up on a rock in the corner of the pasture and _jumping_ the fence! She must’ve seen the dogs doing it and figured it out, I don’t know, but I swear I’ve never seen a calf so smart before. Daddy swore after that she’d end up making genius milk, or something.”

Their talk ranged on from story to story, and by the end of the night the chinese food cartons lay mostly-empty in the paper bag they’d come in and Beth and Daryl had turned to face the ridge. They sat side by side in the grass, legs stretched out in front of them and hands braced on the ground behind them, close enough so that their elbows touched and their feet occasionally bumped, at least, they did each time Beth made hers rock back and forth. 

“I just wanted to say,” Beth remarked, tipping her head back up to look at the stars above them. “This was the best first… _dinner_ , I’ve ever had with anyone. And I’m glad you asked.” 

Years of habit kept the smile from forming on his lips but he felt it inside as he replied simply, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Then she turned to him with a grin on her lips, and added, “Cause I was gonna ask you myself, you know, if you didn’t ask me. I figured I’d give you time, though, and be patient. It seemed like it’d be worth it.” Beth’s head fell back as her gaze fixed on the stars again and that grin lingered on her lips as she added softly, “It was definitely worth it.” 

*** 

The night had already seemed perfect to Daryl, even before they’d reluctantly gotten back onto his bike and taken the 20 minute drive back to Roopville. (It should really have been 15, but no one could blame him for taking his time when he had Beth Greene on the back of his bike, her hair blowing against his cheek and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.) 

Eventually though they came to a stop outside her smile white house, and he helped her off the bike, letting go of her arm a bit later than he probably should have. 

“I had a great night,” she said again, walking beside him as he lead her up to the door. Daryl felt acutely aware of the homes across the street, and the fact that in a small town like this at least half of them probably had old biddies peering out their windows at them right now; staring at the sight of sweet Beth Greene being walked up to her door by that rough-looking Dixon feller. But he was even more aware of Beth and the warmth of her arm brushing his and the sweet smell that lingered around her as they reached the doorway and she turned to smile at him.

His mouth felt dry and he had to swallow twice before he could get out, “Maybe we should… y’know… do this again, sometime.” 

“Yeah?” Beth waited until he nodded, and then a smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she went on, “You’ve got tomorrow off, right?” He nodded again, and watched as she nibbled at her lower lip for just a second before asking, “Cause I was thinking, there’s a County fair this weekend. They’ve got horse shows, and a bunch of people baking, and some carnival games, and even a ferris wheel and I was wondering… would you like to go with me?” 

In some part of his mind, a voice was pointing out all sorts of things. Things like how a rough old man like him didn’t belong at some little country fair at all, let alone with a sweet girl like her. Things like how a girl like her wouldn’t want (or deserve) the kind of talk that’d be stirred up by the sight of her at the fair with a guy like him.. Somewhere in there was Merle’s voice, too, muttering somethin’ about _Darylina_ , and _got you wrapped around her finger like you some overall wearing, thick-headed farmboy, baby brother_.

But he ignored all those voices, because when he looked into her eyes the only response that popped into his head to fall from his lips was a simple, “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

And it was definitely the right choice in the light of the smile that lit up her doe eyes as she leaned up on her toes and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Daryl Dixon,” Beth murmured as she dropped back down to the heels of her boots and turned to open the door. 

“G’night, Beth.” 

He looked over his shoulder as he walked back to his bike, letting that last image of her linger in his mind even as he climbed on and drove back home. He knew Mrs. Wilson would be waiting for him, up far later than she should have been and probably raring for a breakdown of the whole night, given that he’d called her earlier to get the number of the Chinese food place, but he didn’t mind. Her concern would only seem even sweeter in the light of the warm little glow left behind from his first ‘dinner’ with Beth Greene. 

Daryl wasn’t a talker or a sharer either, but there was a part of him that kinda looked forward to getting to tell Mrs. Wilson he already had a second date planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Beth sings is "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton. I had fun listening to it while writing. I'm thinking that this might be all in Daryl's perspective, but I might also want to add in Beth a bit, too. I'm undecided, let me know if you guys have any thoughts, too! All your comments are always loved.


	3. Fretting, Fireworks, and Cotton Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his doubts, Daryl finds that maybe Mrs. Wilson and Beth are right and he might just be the kinda guy who goes to fairs... with the prettiest girl there on his arm, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this, trying to balance a lot of fics at once. I hope it was worth the wait! It's choc-full of fluff.

“Is that what you’re wearing to take your girl to the fair tonight?” Mrs. Wilson’s voice cut into the silence of Daryl’s room, and if he hadn’t heard her coming up the stairs (every one of them creaked louder than her old bones did), he’d have probably jumped. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how she’d made it up the stairs at all, let alone why she was here, but there she was standing there in the doorway eying him up and down.

He turned towards her slowly, a frown furrowing his brow. “Yeah. Why?” At the question he looked down at his clothes in confusion. He was wearing his nicest pair of jeans (they only had one hole in them), and a simple black t-shirt. It was pretty much the nicest casual clothing he owned, considering he’d ripped the sleeves off most of his other shirts. “I ain’t got nothin’ nice to wear,” he said, launching into a defensive tone before she could reply, “An’ it’s just a fair, ain’t it?” 

“Don’t sass me, boy.” Mrs. Wilson eyed him for a moment until he straightened up and uncrossed his arms, and though he didn’t say anything there was an apologetic look on his face she must have seen, because after a moment she went on, “I guess it isn’t bad, all things considered. You stop to think about how it might get cold later tonight?” 

“S’only September,” Daryl remarked with a raise of his eyebrow. “When I went out earlier, was hotter than h- heck.” He corrected himself at the last minute, and the tips of his ears burned at the knowing look the older woman gave him. If it were anyone else he’d never have bothered, but something about Mrs. Wilson always put him on his best manners. Granted, Daryl Dixon’s best manners weren’t much, but he did have them. 

“You’re forgettin’ it gets right nippy at night, ‘round these parts.” 

“I guess I might have a flannel, somewhere…” Daryl turned and started to look, that furrow appearing in his brow again.

But before he could really search, Mrs. Wilson was cutting in once more in a firm voice, “You bring that leather jacket of yours, boy.” She raised her cane and pointed the tip of it at him. “And don’t you go askin’ me why. Just think about your girl getting cold at night, and how nice it’d feel puttin’ that jacket on her like a gentlemen.” 

“She ain’t my girl,” Daryl said after a moment, his voice low and gruff though he knew she could hear him just like she could see him already reaching to pick up his jacket from the chair in the corner. “And I ain’t no gentlemen.” 

“She isn’t _yet_ , maybe,” the woman said in an infuriatingly knowing tone as she turned and made her way back to the stairs. “And you’re more of a gentleman than a lot of men I know, Mr. Dixon. Now come on and help me, you wouldn’t let a poor old lady climb all these stairs on your own, would you?” 

With a sigh, he hooked the jacket over his arm and followed after her, muttering as he went, “Made it up the stairs just fine on your own…”

 

“I heard that!” She called from the hallway. “I’m not so old that my hearings gone, boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daryl drawled, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he came out onto the landing and offered her his arm. “Come on, ma’am, let’s get you down all these stairs.” 

Sure enough she didn’t seem to need his help, but he offered it anyway, letting her lean on his arm until they reached the bottom of the stairs and he turned to walk with her to the kitchen. “There,” he remarked as they reached the table, hesitating only a moment before asking, “Y’ want me t’ put the kettle on?” 

Mrs. Wilson lowered herself into her seat at the table with a faint creak of her old bones, and replied, “If you don’t mind, boy.” If it was anyone else, he would have said of course he damn well minded, but then again, if it were anyone else he’d never have asked in the first place. Mrs. Wilson was different, she always had been. She’d given him a home without questioning him, she’d never once judged him like everyone else in town did, and though he’d probably never admit it out loud, he kinda liked listening to all her stories sometimes. The old broad had lived a long and surprisingly exciting life. 

So though he was quiet about it, he moved around the kitchen with the ease of having done it numerous times before; moving through the routine of filling the kettle and setting it on the stove-top before turning on the burner. As he moved to get her favorite tea from the little pantry cabinet, he heard her ask from behind him, “So, what exactly are your plans for tonight, boy?” 

“Gonna pick her up ‘round seven or so,” Daryl remarked lowly, casting a quick glance over his shoulder before he set the tea on the counter and went to fetch her tea tray. Resting upon it was her favorite tea pot; a delicate white china with a pattern of blue flowers on it. The two cups matched it, each with a gold rim; the set had belonged to her great-grandmother, as she’d told him the first time she’d convinced him to have tea with her. He moved carefully, afraid as always that his rough, dirty hands would turn clumsy and drop the tray or knock the heirlooms over, like a literal bull with her precious, perfectly pristine china. Only when he’d settled the tray on the counter did he add, “Made plans last night, over text.” 

“Pah, texting.” Mrs. Wilson snorted behind him. “In my day, your feller came by in person, to make plans to take you out. Of course, he could ring you up on the telephone, but everyone knew a _true_ Southern gentleman made the effort to come by in person.” She peered at him from over the rim of her glasses, and added pointedly, “And he brought _flowers_ , if he really wanted to make a nice impression.” 

“I ain’t the flower bringin’ type,” Daryl’s response was gruff and short, and he furrowed his brow as he kept his focus down on the kettle on the stove, waiting for it to boil. All this talk of proper dating and being a ‘gentleman’ was only serving to remind him that he was far from a gentleman, which in his mind meant that he was far from the kind of guy a girl like Beth should be dating. He was rough hands and a loud motorcycle, the kind of guy more at home in the woods than at a country fair, and she, well… she was sweet and kind and pretty, the kinda girl who deserved a guy who brought her flowers and took her to fairs and slung his jacket casually across her shoulders. 

His hands, with nothing to keep them busy, curled tightly around the edge of the counter as the furrow deepened in his brow. He was dimly aware that Mrs. Wilson was talking behind him still, but her voice faded into the background of his thoughts as they continued to churn around in his mind forming a new and agitating loop: _Flowers and manners and gentlemen, not good enough, you’re not good enough for her and everyone knows it, they’ll all know it, they’ll be staring at you the whole time, staring at you with her and all thinking the same thing, all wondering why she’s with you, thinking she deserves better, she does deserve better, so much better than you…_

And despite the care he took handling Mrs. Wilson’s china and serving the tea, despite how gently he held the tiny fragile cup in his large hand as he perched in the ridiculously small kitchen chair, those thoughts still lingered as a buzz in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite shake.

*** 

“Okay, I swear this is the final one, what do you think?” Beth spun around slowly, showing her roommate her latest outfit; her favorite skinny jeans under her brown cowboy boots, with a coral colored button-down short-sleeve blouse on top, and a matching brown belt.

“Wait,” Amy glanced up from the magazine on her lap and raised an eyebrow. As she brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, she asked, “What happened to the sundress, I loved the sundress, why did we ditch that?”

“Hello, ferris wheel, remember?” Beth raised her eyebrows right back at Amy, and went on, “I decided it was too risky, being up in a ferris wheel or any of the other rides in a skirt?” 

“Yeah but you could wear some shorts or something underneath, no one would know…” With a purse of her lips, Amy added, “Besides, that little blue and green sundress with the flowers looks so good with your eyes, and you could still wear your boots…” 

Happy as she’d been with the current outfit combo, at Amy’s words Beth couldn’t help casting a glance back over at her shoulder where the aforementioned sundress was still tossed on top of her comforter. She nibbled at her lip and fiddled with the small braid she’d done into her drawn-back hair, but just as she started to say ‘well...’ she was interrupted by the sound of a motorcycle from outside, effectvely making the decision for her.

“Oh, that’s him!” 

“No, _really_? You don’t say.” Amy grinned at her. “I mean it’s not like he’s the only motorcycle-riding hottie in town.” 

“Daryl is not the kinda guy you call a _hottie_ ,” Beth remarked, bouncing on her toes a bit in excitement even as she darted to snatch her purse off the couch. (No, not a ‘hottie’ in the way she’d ever applied it to anyone else before. Daryl was handsome, and rugged, and sweet, and… sexy, too.)

“That’s not what you were saying last night after your _daaate_...” As she drew out the word teasingly, Amy rolled off her stomach and onto her knees, climbing up from the floor with a mischievous grin on her lips. “Maybe I should go out and say hello myself, hm? Scope out the official hottie status?”

“Amy Rose Harrison, don’t you dare!” Beth was giggling as she said it, but after a moment she sighed, and added more seriously, “You’ll just frighten him off, okay? And I really, really don’t wanna frighten him off…” 

The moment her tone got serious, Amy stopped to look her over, and the mischievous smile on her lips turned more fond and almost knowing. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you Greene?” 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Beth remarked primly as she grabbed her keys from the yellow daisy-shaped bowl that sat on the small table near the door. She popped them into her bag and then looped the strap of it over her shoulder, taking one moment to check her lipgloss in the small round mirror that hung above the table before she added softly, “But I do know that he’s sweet, and shy, and funnier than you’d expect, and so clever and incredibly handsome, and I really want tonight to go well, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Amy said simply. “Go on and greet your man, but I expect all the giggly details when you get back tonight, deal?”

“Deal.” Beth had lost track of how many times she’d curled up on Amy’s bed with a pint of ice cream shared between them as they went over the details of one of Amy’s dates. It had pretty much never been her doing the divulging, and it hit her suddenly that she wasn’t even sure how much she’d say tonight, if it went as well as she expected. There was just something about Daryl that made Beth want to keep what she shared with him private, nice and close to her heart. 

With one more look over her shoulder at her smiling best friend, Beth pulled open the door and stepped outside just as Daryl was coming up the walkway towards her. For a moment all she could do was grin so bright she was sure it lit up her face, because she just couldn’t help beaming when she saw him. The truth was she was still amazed he’d asked her out yesterday at the diner, nevermind that she’d had a crush on him pretty much since the first day she’d started at the diner. She couldn’t help it, once she’d found the sweetness under the gruff exterior, once she’d realized that her gut instinct was right about him being a good man.

Looking at him now, she was well aware he wasn’t the type of man anyone might have expected her fall for. Back home the only person she’d dated was Jimmy; sweet, simple, cute Jimmy, who never protested when she held his hand and pretty much always claimed to like the things she liked. She’d gone on two other dates since moving here for school, both of them with a boy named Zach; he’d been cute, in the same clean-cut sort of way, but there’d been no sizzle between them. Not like this. 

And neither of them had looked a thing like Daryl Dixon, with his heavy black boots and his sturdy frame, his muscled arms peeking out from his short-sleeved shirt and his hair falling faintly into his eyes before he brushed it back to reveal… a frown? There was a furrow in his brow without a doubt, that became clearer the closer he got, and Beth could feel one dimpling her own as he got closer. 

“Hey,” she murmured softly, feeling unease curling low in her belly. “Everything okay? You look…” 

“M’fine.” He grunted out the reply to her, but she saw him pause a second after he’d done it as if reconsidering. A shift went over him almost immediately; she saw his shoulders hunch as he looked down at the ground and scuffed his foot on the walkway, before he asked lowly, “You sure you really wanna go to this fair tonight, with me?” 

Blinking at him in confusion, Beth replied softly, “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“It’s just…” He sighed and half-mumbled in his apparent rush to try and get the words out, “I ain’t the kinda guy to go to fairs. Ain’t the kinda guy that girls like you _should_ be goin’ to fairs with.” 

“Daryl…” She started, only to trail off when she actually saw him flinch faintly in anticipation of her reply. For a moment, Beth couldn’t help wondering what sort of life he’d had before coming here. She knew on some level that it had been nothing like her own, she knew that from the very few stories he’d told her, but she didn’t know much else. Despite not knowing, Beth felt an ache in her heart at the idea that a guy as sweet as him might think he didn’t have a place beside her. She shifted tactics and reached gently for him, not grabbing his hand but instead tugging lightly on his shirt for a moment as she said. “C’mere. Sit with me.” 

Beth lowered herself to the top step of their tiny little porch, and looked expectantly up at him until he cleared his throat and moved to join her. She had to tuck herself right up against the railing so both of them could fit, but Beth was far from minding given that it meant having his side pressed right against hers, from his shoulder to his arm to his thigh. The warmth of it distracted her for just a moment, until she looked out over the lawn and began, “First of all, we don’t have to go to the fair if you don’t wanna go. To be honest… I don’t care where we go tonight. I suggested the fair because I knew it was tonight and I thought it would be fun, but Daryl…” She glanced back to him and nudged his arm lightly against his. “All I really want to do tonight is spend it with you. Where we go, doesn’t really matter.” 

“Don’t get why,” he remarked after a moment, “I ain’t… I ain’t the kinda guy a girl like you…” 

“Should like? Should be seen with?” She furrowed her brow at him again. “Why would you say that?” 

“Mm.” He shrugged. “S’what everyone else in town will say, once they see you with me.” 

“Well I don’t think _everyone_ in town will say that, I don’t think they’re all as bad as you might think.” Beth studied his profile, her gaze tracing over the strong lines of his jaw as she went on firmly, “But so what if they do? I don’t care what they think. Do you?”

The way he blinked at her reminded Beth of a surprised owl or something, and she had to fight to keep from smiling too much when he finally glanced over at her. “No. I dunno. Maybe. But… you deserve better’n having people gossip about you.” 

“People who gossip are _always_ gonna gossip,” Beth remarked with a faint smile. “Honestly. I don’t wanna let that stop me from having fun with people I like. And I do, you know… like you.” Her smile grew shy and sweet, but she was pleased when he held her gaze a moment longer this time, looking away only when the tips of his ears began to go faintly pink.

Quiet settled between them for a few moments, broken only by the chirping buzz of cicadas in the trees that lines the road she lived on. Above them the stars were appearing in the evening sky, and for a moment Beth just tipped her head up and looked at them contentedly, before she found herself murmuring, “What do you like to do, for fun?” 

It took him a minute to answer; she was just wondering whether he couldn’t think of anything or if he were debating what the ‘right’ thing to say was. In the end she could only assume he went for the honest answer, because she’d never known Daryl Dixon to be anything but honest with her. “Like watchin’ movies, sometimes. Mrs. Wilson, she’s got a whole room full of books an’ sometimes I’ll find one in there, ain’t too bad. Mystery ones, or crime solvers, or sometimes the action ones. But mostly, I like to go out in the woods. Huntin’, or sometimes just explorin’.” 

“I’ve never gone hunting…” Judging by the expression on his face, that didn’t surprise him, and with a little smile Beth found herself nudging her knee against his as she added, “I know how to set a trap for a rabbit, though.” 

He began to chuckle, but when his head turned to her and he saw her just staring right back at him with her eyebrow arched, his laughter trailed off into surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Well I wouldn’t lie, would I? We get lots of rabbits around the farm, and my Mama loves to make rabbit stew about as much as she loves having her cabbages and lettuce last long enough t pick. I had Otis teach me once, my dad’s farm-hand, I think I mentioned him before. Anyway, he showed me, although I never actually got to set one out in the wild.” She watched him with amusement at the look on his face- some mix of surprise, but also a hint of pleasure that had Beth’s cheeks faintly flushed- and then teased him again, “You might find out I’m full of surprises, Daryl Dixon.”

“I bet you are,” he replied in a voice that was just a little bit lower, and with a look in his eyes that had the flush staying on her cheeks until she had to look away and back up at the stars. 

“What if we stay in tonight and watch a movie? Amy is gonna go out soon and meet up with some friends on campus, we’d have the living room to ourselves.” She looked over at him again and a slow smile curved up her lips, “And maybe for our third… are we calling them dates yet?” She giggled. “For our third, whatever-we-wanna-call-it, you could take me hunting, see how good I am at setting a rabbit trap, hm?” 

There he was again, blinking over at her in complete surprise. “You wanna go huntin’, with me. As a date.” 

“See?” Her arm nudged his and this time she tipped her head so her ponytail lightly grazed his shoulder as she joked, “Full of surprises. And yes, I’d love to spend a day learning to hunt with you.” 

For a moment he just surveyed her, a mix of surprise and curiosity and amusement in his eyes, until a hint of a smile quirked at the corner of his lips and he replied, “Alright. But tonight, we’ll go to the fair.” 

Now it was her turn to blink at him like a little surprised owl, even as a grin formed on her lips. “Really? I meant it, we don’t have to, if you don’t want to…” 

“You want to,” Daryl murmured, as if that were what mattered most. “And I guess it wouldn’t be so bad, walking through the fair with the prettiest girl there on my arm.” 

It was all she could do not to hug him right then and there and even still that big grin was back and lighting up her face as she teased right back, “Well then, I’d love to get to walk through the fair on the arm of the handsomest man there.” 

He rolled his eyes, but she knew what to look for now and sure enough the tips of his ears had gone all pink as he pushed off from his knees and rose to his feet. Standing above her he offered her his hand and helped her up beside him, and as they walked slowly down the walkway towards his bike, he ran his fingers through his hair and muttered, “Sorry I ain’t brought you flowers, or nothin’.” 

“That’s fine,” she replied easily and honestly. “I don’t need flowers, Daryl. I meant it when I said I just wanna spend time with you. Besides,” she added, quick to diffuse the compliment so he didn’t get too flustered, “I kinda prefer flowers where they are, you know? I’d rather get to walk by a field of blooming flowers every day for a week, then have them wither and wilt in two days in a vase, you know?” 

He chuckled and gave her a once-over that had her grin lingering on her lips as he climbed onto his bike and gestured for her to join him, “You really are full of surprises, Greene. I like it. And I know exactly what you mean.” 

*** 

If anyone was giving them funny looks when they arrived at the Fair together, Daryl didn’t actually notice. The truth was he was just too busy watching Beth and that wasn’t really a surprise. The girl just damn well lit up when she was happy, shining like the sun itself, and she had been beaming pretty much since they’d gotten off his bike. It only took a couple minutes to buy their tickets and get inside, and since the moment they’d stepped through that opening gate, he was riveted to her.

Beth’s blue eyes were wide as she drank in the booths, the rides, the chattering and laughing crowds, the twinkle lights hung here and there glinting in the evening light. Without even hesitating, she’d linked her arm through his and now they were walking side by side through the fair. The lights glinted in her shining blonde hair, and her blue eyes were even more brilliant tonight, like a piece of the sky itself, perfectly set against the flushed apples of her cheeks. He really did have the prettiest girl on his arm, and he couldn’t look away from her. 

At first they just made a round of the fair, to get the lay of the land as Beth had put it, making him smile. “What should we do now?” Beth turned to him when they ended up back by the entrance, leaning into him with a smile that had him struggling to focus on the question. “We could go look at the booths with all the crafts and stuff people made more closely? Or we could get some food, or… oh! We could play some games! Let’s play some games, Daryl.” 

Despite the fact that a part of him still believed he wasn’t the kinda man for a country fair like this, with a girl like her, there was another part of him that sort of wanted to be. Or at least there was a part of him that wanted to make sure Beth had the best damn time ever. So when she headed up to a ring toss game, he was right there behind her, smiling as she tried again and again to hook a ring onto one of the moving soda bottles. 

“Here,” he said, coming up beside her. “You gotta anticipate where it’s gonna be, okay. Pick a bottle, right?” He leaned in closer, his words murmured nearer to her ear as he pointed at the slowly moving ‘pond’ the bottles were resting in, each perched on a fake lillypad. “Look where it is now, then look where it is in about two seconds, okay? That’s about how long it takes you to throw it. Now when it comes around and hits that first spot again, you toss it, but aim for the second spot. Just flick your wrist, nice and easy…” 

He wasn’t sure what was better, the fact that Beth actually hooked the ring on the bottle or the way she turned around towards him immediately, jumping up and down and clapping with delight. Lord, she was so damn… _adorable_ , with her cheeks all flushed and a little giggled squeal escaping her lips. Even more so when she happily took the bright green plastic sunglasses they gave her as a prize and perched them on top of her head like they were the best thing she’d ever seen. 

“I’ve never won at a fair game before,” she remarked as she slipped her arm back through his and they made their way down the path. 

Daryl cleared his throat, and then asked without thinking, “You ever had anyone win yout somethin’ before?” 

“No.” She smiled at him. “Never even had anyone try. My high school boyfriend, Jimmy, he was always wantin’ to go see the horse shows or the cattle, he never wanted to play the games or go on any rides.” 

Daryl didn’t know who this Jimmy kid was, but he had to be a damn idiot to prefer cows to the look of delight on Beth’s face right now as she walked with him through the crowd. Suddenly, all he could think about was keeping that look on her face, or maybe making it shine even brighter, and before he could overthink it he was scanning the booths ahead and tugging her gently towards one. “Well come on, then.” 

“Daryl!” Beth giggled but followed after him until they reached a booth and he came to a stop. tugging his arm free of hers to slide into a seat on an empty stool. “What are you doing?”

“Thought that was obvious,” he replied as he reached for the toy pellet gun and began to line up a shot on the moving ducks behind the booth. “Gonna win you a prize, Greene.” He looked up just in time to catch sight of the soft and (to be honest) absolutely beautiful smile that curved up her lips. When his ears started to burn yet again, he pointed up at the prizes hanging on the walls of the booth to distract himself. “Which one do you want, girl?” 

Beth bit her lip and shifted in place, before pointing to a stuffed teddy bear with dark brown fur and a little plaid vest on. “That one,” she said with another sweet smile. 

“Alright,” Daryl said easily. With a nod to the man running the booth, he asked, “How many do I need to hit to get this pretty lady that teddy bear, hm?” 

With an amiable grin, the tall, pot-bellied man drawled, “You hit all in one row you can have ‘em, son.” 

That was just what he did. With Beth beside him watching with that sweet little smile, Daryl lined up and took each shot one after the other until she was clapping her hands together and jumping up and down yet again. The moment he hit the last duck, he lowered the gun and leaned back with a little smirk to look up at her and drawl, “Easy as… peach pie.” 

 

And she grinned, and damn if that wasn’t the best grin he’d ever seen even _before_ she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him in a squeal of delight. “That was amazing! I can’t believe you hit every single one!” 

“Weren’t nothing,” he muttered as the tips of his ears began to burn again, making him pull slowly back from that hug. But his reticence disappeared the moment the booth-owner handed her that bear, and she lit up all over again and hugged it to her chest.

“I’m gonna name him Daryl,” she breathed out, with a smile that was both happy and playful and silly all at once. 

“Aww, why’d you wanna do a thing like that,” Daryl remarked, half amused but also a bit baffled, too. 

“He reminds me of you, that’s why I picked him!” The way Beth said it was as if it were the most obvious thing ever. “See? His fur is the same color as your hair, and his little flannel vest? You have a shirt like this, I saw you once coming into work…” She blushed, suddenly, and added quickly, “Not that I’m, you know, not that I’m memorizing what you wear or nothing…” 

Really all he could do was chuckle, despite the faint heat still tingling in his ears as he climbed out of his seat. Doing his best to distract them both from the idea of her naming a teddy bear after him of all people, he gestured to the stool and asked, “You wanna take a try?” 

“Really?” 

“C’mere, I bet you can do it. I’ll show you, it ain’t too tough.” And it really wasn’t. There was nothing tough about Beth lining up that gun while he leaned over her from behind, his hands guiding her arms and his lips by her ear, breathing out instructions. She wasn’t so bad, either, though she missed quite a few shots at first they were all near misses… until, to both their delights, she hit one single duck and knocked it down and damned if she didn’t squeal almost right in his ear. 

“See? Knew you could do it.” He stood back with a chuckle as she bounced to her feet and instantly scooped up the bear he’d won her. She kept it tucked into the crook of her arm as the man behind the booth offered her a small prize for getting her first shot. After perusing the selection she took another pair of neon sunglasses, this time yellow. 

“Ain’t one pair of those enough for you?” Daryl asked with a chuckle.

“There are for you,” she giggled, leaning up on her tip-toes to perch them on top of his head. “Yellow is my favorite color.” For a moment he was almost achingly aware of how close they were, how her eyes were just inches from his, which meant that so was her perfect little nose and her rosy cheeks and of course, her full soft lips. There were a few seconds where she lingered there so close to him and the heated excitement in her eyes seemed to flash between them, and he wondered if he should just lean in, and kiss her…

But he couldn’t do it, not yet, and after a second Beth dropped back to her feet. That smile of hers never faded though, it even grew as she tapped the glasses resting on her own head and joked, “See? Now we match.” With her bear tucked into one arm, she slid the other through his and lead him back onto the path as she asked, “Where to next?” 

*** 

 

Eventually they ended up cycling around to the food area, where the look of delight on Beth’s face had Daryl getting them a large cotton-candy to share. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the sugar-sweet taste of it or how it melted kinda funny on his tongue, but he had to admit that seeing Beth with a mouth all sticky with pink was pretty damn good… not to mention appealing, and apparently yet another reason to make him want to kiss her. 

They shared the cotton candy between them as they circled the fair again, this time drifting to the booths where people had laid out their wares. Beth, he was amused to find, seemed delighted in the biggest range of things; from horse blankets to jewelry to paintings and wood carvings and more. It was at the wood carving booth that she lingered the longest, though, fingering little figurines of cats and dogs, deers, bears, birds, and pretty much every animal you could find in the state and beyond.

“They’re just so pretty,” she remarked when he came up beside her and silently raised an eyebrow at her lingering.“Don’t you think so? They must have spent so much time on these, carving them just right, putting so much love into them... I think they’re beautiful.” 

It seemed so like her, to notice the beauty in something like that. He looked and them and saw trinkets, albeit ones with obvious skill. But she saw the time someone put into it, the care and love, even the animation and personality in the faces of certain wood carvings… like the little bunny, small enough to nestle in the palm of her hand, which according to Beth looked like it was wrinkling up it’s nose and smiling.

Beth might have seen things like that, but she didn’t see the way he lingered behind as she moved ahead, giving him just enough time to hand over a few bucks to the owner of the booth and slip the wooden bunny into the pocket of his jeans. He couldn’t resist, not after the way she’d practically made up a story for the thing.

But it lingered in his pocket for now as they wound their way through the fair, linking arms again once the cotton candy was finished. Sure enough, the later it got the cooler the air got, and as soon as he felt Beth give a faint shiver next to him, he heard Mrs. Wilson’s voice whispering in his mind: _Just think about your girl getting cold at night, and how nice it’d feel puttin’ that jacket on her like a gentlemen._

It was nonsense, silly nonsense now just as it had been then, and yet without hesitation he found himself shrugging off the jacket the instant he felt her shiver. “Here,” he murmured, settling it onto her shoulders before she could protest. “You need it more, I’ve always run hot.” He waited until she slipped her arms over it, and then gave her a once-over. “Looks better on you, anyway.”

And fuck if that weren’t the truth. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a sight better than little Beth Greene in his big leather jacket, swimming in it but managing to look sweet and sexy at the same time as she curled her fingers in the lapels and drew them closer to her chest. Her eyes were shining as she thanked him and for the third time that night he just wanted to lean in and press her lips to his. 

(He wanted to. He really did. But he just still couldn’t shake that niggling voice in the back of his mind that insisted a guy like him had no right kissing a girl as sweet as her.) 

“Let’s ride _that_.” Beth’s voice cut into his thoughts, and it took him a moment to blink and focus on her outstretched hand, pointing up at the ferris wheel that towered above them, it’s lights flashing invitingly.

In a slow drawl, he asked, “That what you wanna do next?” 

“Can we?” 

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.” He took her arm again and gave her a faint little smile. “C’mon, Greene. Hope you ain’t afraid of heights.” 

“I’m not afraid of _anything_ ,” she said boldly. But then her eyes found his and a shy smile curved up those pretty pink lips as she admitted, “Least, not when I’m with you, anyway.”

Somewhere in the daze left behind with her words they ended up on the ferris wheel, riding it slowly up to the top. The crowd was slow with everyone having gone to watch one of the shows, and so they were almost the only ones on the ride, but when they reached the peak and he felt the wheel shudder to a slow stop he was still caught completely by surprise. 

“I asked him if he could stop it at the top, just for a bit,” Beth murmured, suddenly making him very aware of the press of her arm to his and the way she was tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. “Isn’t the view beautiful?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, never once taking his eyes from the blonde tucked up against his side, wisps of her hair blowing in the breeze. “Best view I’ve seen in ages.” 

If she realized what he truly meant, she didn’t react. She just stayed there for a few moments, drinking in the view she had her eyes on until finally she sat up straight and pulled her phone from her pocket. “I want a picture of this. I wish I’d remembered to take more, before.” 

As she snapped a picture of the view, the fields and forests stretched out around the fair grounds which winked with a light to match the stars above, he couldn’t help asking, “Why?”

“Cause I wanna remember all of it.” Beth spoke in that ‘isn’t it obvious’ tone again as she turned and took a picture right down at the flickering lights of the fair beneath them. “I wanna remember every last moment of tonight and never let any of it fade away. Don’t you?” 

“I…” Daryl swallowed hard, his eyes on her as she looked back to him. “I ain’t never wanted to remember much of nothin’ before, but… I reckon I wouldn’t mind rememberin’ this.”

It was hard, saying things like that when he usually kept it all in, but yet again it was worth it to see her smile. Especially when she went on, “We need a picture of us, then.” 

“Of us?” 

“Yeah, the two of us, right now!” 

“I, er… okay.” He shifted in the ferris wheel seat. “I ain’t got a camera on my phone, though…” His was an ancient thing, some busted up flip phone he’d gotten once so he and Merle could keep in touch. No camera, not even any internet, though it could make calls and text, at least. Sort of. 

“It’s okay, mine is great!” She shifted close to him, so close that it only seemed natural for him to slide his arm over her shoulder and let her fit her body right against his side. Beth held the camera up facing him, and in an instant he saw the two of them filling the screen. He thought he’d flinch, though all he’d be able to notice was how strange the pair of them looked together…

But when she pressed her cheek to his and smiled at the camera, all he could think was that somehow, he looked as happy as she did. And it was good. _Really_ good. So when she took that picture and lowered the phone into her lap and murmured, “I’ll save this. So you know, if you ever get a newer phone, I can send it to you,” he couldn’t help thinking that maybe having a newer, fancier phone wouldn’t feel so useless if he could fill it with pictures like that.

If she wanted to take more pictures like that with him, anyway. Judging by the smile on her face, he had a feeling she did… which was what prompted him, suddenly, to reach into his pocket and pull out his closed hand. 

“Here, got you somethin’. Hold out your hands.” 

“What?” Even as she cupped her hands for him, Beth kept saying, “Daryl, you didn’t have to-” But then he dropped that little wooden bunny into her hands, and her protest turned into a soft gasp, followed by an exhaled sigh as the pad of her finger ran across the little, delicately carved ears. “Oh Daryl, you got me the bunny! Oh I love it, it’s perfect. _Thank you_!” 

“Yeah well…” He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he could cover up the tips of his ears that just wouldn’t stop burning when she was looking at him like that. “Figured you deserved somethin’ extra special… bein’ as this is our second date, and all.”

“Date, huh? We callin’ them that, now?” Beth was looking at him all sweet smiles and shining blue eyes, and as the ferris wheel began to move beneath them again, all he could do was quirk his lips right back at her. 

“Yeah. If you want, I guess.” 

“I do.” She reached out and laced her fingers through his, and as she tipped her head back against his shoulder he heard her murmur, “This is the most perfect second date I’ve ever had.” 

Daryl just chuckled. “This is the only second date I’ve ever had. But definitely the best.” 

“I really beat out that complete lack of competition, didn’t I?” Beth giggled beside him. 

In between his low, rumbling laughter, the words just spilled free, “Greene, you’d beat out any competition in a heartbeat, with a smile like yours.” 

This time, when she looked up at him and tilted her head and he saw those soft lips part just faintly in a sigh, he gave in more than he ever had before. He lifted his hand, cupped her cheek, and leaned down until his lips were less than an inch from hers… and only then did he hesitate. But it only lasted for a second and Beth was there meeting him halfway, closing the distance and pressing her lips to his instead.

And he was pretty sure that the fireworks that went off in front of them were just a very conveniently timed coincidence, because of course, they had to be. It wasn’t like they’d made them go off with the heat that flashed between them.

Though to be fair, it had taken him until her lips parted from his for Daryl to realize that they were actual fireworks, and not just the ones that had gone sizzling under his skin from the moment her mouth met his. 

“Wow,” she breathed out, looking up at him with a breathless smile. 

She definitely had that one right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get a balance of 'understandable Daryl issues' mixed with sweet happy fluff, so I hope it worked out well. I think this is my favorite chapter so far, gosh.


	4. Selfies, Singing, and Kissing the Cook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl needs to help buying a newfangled cell-phone contraption, and Beth is there to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update, I hope it's not a disappointment after that long wait. (Also sorry I'm so self-doubting over my writing lately, blargle, anxiety sucks doesn't it?) No but this is a nice fluffy one, I hope!

The entire evening at the fair had felt like a dream in so many ways. A hazy pleasant dream lit with the glow of twinkling lights and filtered through with laughter and the tinkle of lilting music and the low murmur of the crowds. In the midst of all that haze, only one part of it had stood out sharp and clear. Beth.

Everything about her that night was as clear as the sun in an otherwise hazy sky: Her smile, the flush to her cheeks, the way her eyes lit up each time she looked at him, the sound of her laughter or the warmth of her body close to his own. And of course the press of her lips to his and the shiver of heat that had gone through Daryl’s body in that moment; fireworks under his skin to match the real ones in the sky beyond them.

He had felt the same fireworks later that night when he dropped her back off at home and walked her to her door. She’d turned to him and leaned up on her toes and then his lips were on hers again and he felt a sort of fluttering fizzle within him, like the bubbles in a glass of soda only a hundred times better. They hadn’t even faded as she’d slipped inside and he’d climbed on his bike to head home. He’d fallen asleep with the faintest fizzle in his belly and woken up with thoughts of her on his mind.

The next day Daryl would have wondered if it were all a dream except in his mind every second of Beth remained crystal clear. Like it was etched into him forever, same as the tattoos inked indelibly onto his skin, never to fade. He couldn’t stop running over it again and again in his mind; tossing rings, her delight at him winning her that bear, cotton candy stuck to his tongue, the way his jacket had hung on her slender frame, the lights spread out beneath them on the ferris wheel… every perfect shining moment again and again, like the night was playing on a loop in his mind and each replay only seemed better than the last.

He had the day off, and so despite the fact that a part of him wanted to just sit and relive last night a little longer, he’d decided to run a few errands and pick up some things for Mrs. Wilson. He wasn’t the type of man to sit still, after all, and he could remember Beth’s happy laughter just as easily out at the baker’s as he could back at home. His last stop of the afternoon had been the hardware store in Carrolton, but as he stood in the lot loading paint cans into the trunk of the car he’d borrowed from Mrs. Wilson, Daryl looked up and unexpectedly spotted a cell phone store across the street. 

In a flash he was back to last night and the memory of Beth holding up her phone and snapping a picture of them both. He saw the happiness on her face and his own and he remembered how he’d thought it might not be so bad having a new phone if it meant he could fill it with pictures like that. He was moving before he even realized it.

Though he had strode determinedly across the street and into the store, that was about as far as Daryl got. Face to face with a store full of bright white lights and fancy and confusing devices, he instantly balked. It didn’t help that a salesman was almost immediately at his side asking him questions he barely understood about contracts and ‘data’ and how many minutes he used. With a grunt he turned on his heel and strode right out of the store, leaving the salesman behind him still babbling something about if he was an ‘eye-phone man or an android man’ whatever the hell that meant. 

In the parking lot, his battered old phone was in his hand before he could even think about it, and without hesitating he selected one of the few contacts in there: _Beth_. Only after he hit send did he feel that squirm of nervousness taking root. What if she didn’t want to talk to him? Was he even supposed to call her the day after a date? He’d never really gone on dates before but he was pretty sure he’d heard some bullshit once about there being ‘rules’ about calling someone after a date. It all seemed like shit to him, but he was still relieved when the phone clicked over and he heard her bright voice exclaiming, “Hey! I’m so glad you called. How are you?” 

“Good,” he remarked simply, with a scuff of his foot on the ground. He paused a moment and then with a shrug of his shoulder that she couldn’t see, he went on, “Listen… you, uh, busy right now?”

“Nope!” It was funny but he swore he could hear her smiling through the phone. Hell he could almost envision here right now, swaying a little in place the way she did when she was on the diner phone, absentmindedly twirling her hair around her finger or toying with her braid. Just like he could imagine the little smirk on her lips as she giggled and asked, “Why? Missing me already, Dixon?” 

“Always.” The low reply came out all on it’s own and the tips of his ears instantly burned with embarrassment as he hastened to go on, “It’s just- Well I was out runnin’ errands and I found this cell phone store, only I ain’t got no idea what any of those phones are or which I should get. And the guy in there kept going on about if I like, uh, phones for my eye or androids or somethin’, and I ain’t got a clue what none of that means. So I was wonderin’-” The words had spilled out of him like they never really did, and it was only when he got to the question that he stuttered and stammered and couldn’t quite get it out. 

But Beth always knew how to pick up where he’d trailed off, or fill his awkward silences. “-if I could come help you out?” She giggled softly. “I’d love to, Daryl, honest. Did you think I’d say no?” 

His brow furrowed as he tried to explain, “S’just… I know our next date was supposed t’ be huntin’, or whatever…” 

“Well it still can be,” she murmured, her voice softer and a little more intimate. “You know, we can spend time together and hang out and it doesn’t have to be a date.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Actually I’d really like that, to just get to hang out with you.” 

“Me too.” He wasn’t even sure why he’d been so nervous; it seemed so simple and obvious now that she’d put it that way. Beth always had this way of simplifying things. Just like she had last night when he was so damn nervous about that stupid fair and she’d cut right to the heart of the matter and laid it out nice and easy. The tension eased from his body as his hunched up shoulders relaxed, and after a second he added, “So can you meet me here, maybe? I’m in Carrolton, by the hardware store.” 

“Yeah, I know where that is!” In the background he could hear rustling noises followed by the clink of what he thought were her keys, like she was already at her door and almost on the way. “I’ll be there in like, fifteen minutes, okay? See you soon!”

* * *

Sure enough it was only fifteen minutes before he spotted Beth pulling into the parking lot in the old beat-up Ford she shared with Amy. He’d thought the dreamy-haze feeling was just the result of memory, but no. The moment she stepped out of the car Daryl felt it again, like everything around him went a bit hazy and nothing stood out but Beth. It reminded him of those moments in the woods when everything around him seemed to fade away as he’d fix on a track in the mud, or a doe standing in the clearing. Except Beth wasn’t prey, she was something far better. 

She was clear as crystal in the haze of the rest of the world, a bright pop of perfect color in a blue and green sundress and cowboy boots, with her blonde hair long down her back and her big blue eyes fixed on him. A smile curved up her lips as she came towards him, and he couldn’t help but return it even if his own smile was naturally fainter.

There was a moment where he felt awkward all over again, standing with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slightly hunched as he scuffed his foot on the ground. Was he supposed to greet her somehow special? Hug her? _Kiss_ her? 

Maybe his confusion showed in his eyes because she neared him he saw something soften in her expression, as if she saw and understood and was yet again smoothing the way for them both. Her hand slid up his arm as she leaned up onto her toes and pressed a simple, easy kiss to his cheek, and when she drew back she greeted him simply and brightly, “Hey there.” 

“Hey.” He relaxed almost instantly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he slipped his hands from his pockets. Then she was right beside him, sliding her arm through his and leaning against him with a smile that made everything seem so much easier. One of these days maybe he’d ask how she did that. How she made everything seem so damn simple. But for now he just wanted to drink in the sight of her on his arm again as she guided him back towards the entrance to the store. 

“Alright. Now let’s find you a phone, okay?” If it had been anyone else he would have scoffed, but when Beth said it in that easy tone, it felt like it really would be easy. And somehow, it was. She breezed into the store and fixed the salesman with a smile, and the man’s furrowed brow instantly faded at the sight of the bright young girl on Daryl’s arms. Daryl might have been an intimidating mystery but Beth was, well, sweet as peach pie.

“Hi! I’m Beth, and this is Daryl,” she remarked warmly. “Daryl here is need of a new phone, which I think he might have already told you. The thing is, I don’t think a regular phone would be right for him. What we need is a more rugged phone. You know, waterproof, shatterproof, one of those ones with the really sturdy frames you can drop without a problem?” 

Daryl blinked and turned to look down at her in surprise. “They make phones like that?”

“They do!” The warm smile that curved up her lips made him want to kiss her right there in the middle of the store, but for now he settled for letting his hand drift to the small of her back as Beth went on, “Perfect for an outdoorsman like you.”

“Oh, an _outdoorsman_?” The salesman’s eyes lit up now that he could finally peg Daryl. “I think we have just what you need, sir. Let’s go take a look, shall we?”

* * *

A half hour later they were exiting the store with Daryl’s phone held in Beth’s slender little hand. He had to admit the phone looked tough, even if the name- “Cat S50”- had him chuckling a bit. Granted, that might have been because earlier, Beth had tipped her head back and mewed at him when he’d made a joking remark about it and continued to do so each time the salesman mentioned the phone name in the midst of his spiel. (It had been really hard to focus on the man’s droning voice about all of the phone’s capabilities when Beth kept leaning up to meow in his ear and then giggle all silly.) 

Despite the name, the phone sounded like it was perfect for him. At least it had once the salesman had repeated some of it’s best features. Waterproof, shockproof, and apparently pretty shatter-proof too. It sure as hell looked like it was tough; he couldn’t help noticing how out of place it looked in Beth’s little hand. 

“This is just perfect for you, honest, you’re gonna love it once you get used to it. You can take it with you hunting. It’s got GPS!” She looked up at him and before he could even protest, her blindingly bright smile brushed that away. “Not that you need it, I’m sure. Maybe I’ll borrow it when we go, I’m sure I’ll end up lost.” 

“Nah. I ain’t ever gonna let you get lost.” His simple reply had her beaming again and he was surprised and pleased by the way she instantly leaned closer to his side as they walked towards her car. He was only saying the truth, after all. There was no way he’d take Beth out in the woods and let her get lost and he didn’t need no fancy GPS to manage that.

Of course, being waterproof and shatterproof wasn’t reallywhy he’d wanted to get the phone either. His own phone had been fine for shit like that, ancient as it was. No, it was something else that had prompted it; the same thing that had him clearing his throat to ask, “So this one… it takes pictures, right?” 

“It does!” Beth looked excited as she brought the thing back to what he figured was the main screen (it had way too many for his liking, to be honest). “See right here? This little camera icon brings up the camera.” She showed him what the buttons were and made sure it was set nice and simple, and then offered it to him. “Here, try it out?” 

Daryl lifted the phone as she’d shown him, nervously training it past her into the parking lot. Which of course wasn’t what he really wanted a picture of. But standing there trying to work up the nerve to take a picture of her suddenly made him feel all awkward and nervous again. He shifted the camera over to train it on her only to pull it away after a moment and awkwardly clear his throat, repeating the movements several times until the tips of his ears were burning all over again. 

But then Beth just softly laughed. “C’mon,” she murmured, pulling his attention back to her. “Look I’ll give you something good for your first ever picture, huh?” She flashed him a grin and then posed with one hand on her hip as she leaned in and blew him a kiss. Her silliness made him chuckle, and without hesitating he lined up the shot and pressed it with a ‘click’ of the phone camera. 

“There you go!” Beth came up beside him again, arching up onto her toes to peer over his arm and down at the phone. “See, then you press that square in the corner and you can see the picture you took! Aww, that came out cute.” She was right, without a doubt. It was a damn cute picture, though he’d never been the type to think of things as ‘cute’ before Beth Greene. “You should take more,”she remarked brightly, “What else do you wanna try to get a picture of?”

“Um.” He cleared his throat again and shrugged one shoulder. “Us?’ 

Just like that her face went from curious to radiant again and a smile curved widely up her lips as she breathed out softly, “Perfect.” He thought she’d lean against his side again like on the ferris wheel, but instead he watched in surprise as she came around and stood in front of him. With a grin she guided her arms around him and leaned until her back was pressed against his chest and damn, it was hard to think about taking a picture when she was close like that. She was just so damn small and yet somehow she fit right back against him like this. Especially with his arms around her waist, holding her close. He’d never been one for holding anyone before and if he’d been thinking clearly he’d have realized that he’d pretty much _never_ held anyone like this before.

But Beth wasn’t anyone and besides, he could barely think straight like this.

Dimly he registered Beth lifting his hand and pressing the phone into it, giggling at his slow movements until finally he blinked away his distraction and managed to focus. “C’mere,” he murmured low and gruff, his arm tightening around her belly and his hand splaying there as he held her back against him. He didn’t fail to notice that the press of his hand to the flat of her belly had her inhaling just a little bit sharply as he lifted his hand and tilted the phone to line up the shot. 

“I think you’re too tall,” Beth teased as he stretched out his arm trying to get them both in shot.

“Well maybe you’re too short, hm?” He chuckled, but the truth was she wasn’t ‘too’ anything. Everything about her was just right. 

“Well I can’t get any taller, so you gotta lean down, maybe?” Beth spoke in between giggles, even as she tried to arch onto her toes. 

“Shush,” he murmured back, a smirk on his lips as he leaned down a bit over her shoulder. “There. Smile for the camera.” 

“Take more than one, just in case!” Beth exclaimed, seconds before her lips curved into a happy smile. He snapped the first one easily but she caught him off guard on the second, turning to kiss his cheek just as he took the shot. By the third he was turning to meet her too, and their noses grazed before slotting together, their eyes meeting in one breathless moment before his lips pressed to hers just as he fumbled to press the button to take the picture.

When he pulled back, blinking and a bit flustered, it was to see the flush on Beth’s cheeks as she turned back to his phone and reached carefully for it. “Let’s see…” He looked down as she brought up the gallery and flipped slowly through the three pictures he’d taken, each one better (in his mind) than the last. 

“This one is my favorite,” she murmured as she came to settle on the one of them kissing.

With a hint of a frown, he leaned over her shoulder and murmured, “Came out a bit blurry…”

“Doesn’t matter.” She hummed. “Still my favorite.” After a moment she twisted in his arms to look up at him, craning her head over her shoulder. “Can I send it to myself?” 

“Sure.” His hand was still pressed to her stomach and he had no desire to pull it away just let. “As long as you send me the one from last night.”

“Deal.” He watched with curiosity as she showed him how to forward the picture to her number, then pulled out her own phone and sent the one from last night. It was all a bit confusing but he’d figure it out eventually. Especially if he had Beth’s help, like he did today. 

“So I was thinking,” Beth murmured with a nibble on her lower lip as she slipped her own phone into her pocket and turned to face him. “I know we said our next date would be hunting and I still wanna do that, but um… I’m having a lot of fun is all, and I don’t really wanna go back home alone?” As soon as she got the questioning words out her cheeks went pink again and if it hadn’t been for the burning of his own ears he might have chuckled as she hurriedly went on, “I just meant, um- Amy is out for the day visiting her sister, she’s not gonna be back till really late or something and I thought, maybe you’d wanna come over and watch a movie with me? We could get something to eat, or cook something… it might be nice.” 

It only took him a second for the corner of his lip to tug up into a hint of a smile. “Alright, yeah. Better to hunt on a weekend, anyway…”

Beth rested her hand lightly on his arm, fingers toying with the sleeve of his shirt for a moment as she said,“Okay. So hunting will be our… whatever date number we’re up to by the time a good weekend comes along, yeah?” 

_Whatever number date we’re up to_. The flush on her cheeks as she said that made him wanna smile all over again, and so he just nodded without hesitating. “Yeah. Sounds good to me.” 

The truth was that Beth being so open about them having multiple dates to come was more than good. It was great. A little bit scary, sure. But also great.

* * *

Since they were in two cars and his was full of things he’d picked up for Mrs. Wilson, they had to split up for a short while. While Beth headed to her place, Daryl went back to Mrs. Wilson’s house to drop off the paint cans and other supplies in the garage. 

He was just about to climb onto his bike to drive to Beth’s when Mrs. Wilson caught him. She stood in the doorway between the garage and the back hallway, peering out at him with an eyebrow raised and one hand curled around her cane. “You heading out again already, boy?” Looking him up and down, she added, “You won’t fit much of anything on that bike of yours.”

“Already got everything you needed, Ma’am.” He added the last a bit gruffly, but no less mannerly. “Not runnin’ errands no more.” 

“Mhm…” Arching another grey eyebrow, she remarked knowingly, “Going to see your girl again?” 

“She ain’t…” He trailed off as if he could feel the phone burning in his pocket now, full of those pictures of her tucked to his chest or pressed cheek to cheek with him last night on the Ferris Wheel, right before they kissed. Maybe she wasn’t ‘his girl’ yet, but she was something… _they_ were something, anyway. So after a moment he shrugged and settled back on the bike as he nodded. “Yeah, goin’ to see her.” 

“Well I still think you should bring her flowers.” She lifted her cane and pointed it emphatically at him. “It’s just mannerly, boy. You hear me?” 

He chuckled, low and rumbling in his chest. She had this way of scolding him that would have made him fit to snarl if it were from anyone else,, but with her it just made him feel… well, somethin’ like he thought it might have felt like to have a Ma or maybe a Grandma, or any sort of family that cared about you more than they cared about getting their next drink. “I hear you.” Daryl rested his hand on the handlebar of the bike and gave a shrug. “She ain’t a fan of flowers, though. Not picked, anyway. Thinks it’s sad the way they die so quick, I think.” 

“Hm.” Mrs. Wilson narrowed her eyes for a moment, but when she nodded there was a smile on her lips. “Sounds like a good girl you’ve got there.” She started to turn back into the house but then stopped to jab that cane at him again as she shot back, “But you know, that doesn’t mean you can’t bring her flowers that _haven’t_ been picked yet, boy.” 

He had to laugh. She said it like it was so obvious and of course it was. He’d have wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before, but he knew. Because Daryl had never been the flower-giving type, picked or otherwise.

Until Beth, anyway.

* * *

It was about twenty minutes later that he pulled up to Beth and Amy’s little house next to the church. Ignoring any urge to imagine everyone in the neighborhood with their eyes on him, Daryl parked his bike in the driveway and headed up the walkway, one hand behind his back as he lifted his hand to knock on the door. 

When she opened it a few seconds later she looked so damn pretty in that sundress with her hair down and a smile on her lips that he almost forgot he was holding something for her behind his back. Almost, at least. “I… hey. I mean…” He cleared his throat and ignored the burning tips of his ears as he went on, “I brought you this.” From behind his back he drew out his gift: a small, round yellow pot from which sprouted a leafy green plant with several pink buds and one little flower already blooming.

“It’s, uh, an African Violet?” Feeling unexpectedly nervous, Daryl ran his free hand through his hair and went on, “The lady at the store said it would grow well inside maybe by a window. I figured maybe you’d like it, since it’d keep growin’, you know, cause you said you didn’t like flowers that had been picked already…”

“Daryl-”

“I can take it back, though, if you don’t like it.”

“Daryl…” He broke off to look up at her, all light up with that radiant smile that made his stomach feel funny again. “It’s beautiful, honestly. I love it. Thank you.” With a soft smile she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to his for just a moment before pulling back. “Don’t you dare take my beautiful violet back, okay? Now come in here, c’mon.” 

She took the pot gently from his hands and he followed after her, heading into her home for the first time. He’d never seen it before, though he’d imagined it whenever she told him stories, so he couldn’t help taking a moment to drink it all in. The truth was it looked about like what he’d imagined her place would be. Clean and bright with comfortable furniture, fluffy pillows on the couch, and colorful rugs on the floor. It looked like the perfect home for a girl as sweet as her.

It looked like _her_ , too, from the guitar he saw propped up against the wall to the bright little bowl by the doorway with her keys in it. The photographs in frames all around on the coffee table and side-table were very Beth, too, judging by the colorful hand-painted frames with things like ‘best friends’ and ‘love’ and ‘family’ drawn on in her looping handwriting.

“So uh, this is the living room,” she remarked as she set down the violet on a table near the window. “The kitchen is through that archway there, it’s pretty small but it’s not so bad. That doorway there goes to Amy’s room, there’s a bathroom in between that we share- or try to, you know Amy is a total bathroom hog, I told you about that time she almost made me late for work because she took an hour to do her hair, right?”

He chuckled and nodded, remembering the way she’d raced in their with her hair still damp and the top button of her dress undone, her apron trailing behind her from her hand. Like a little panicked whirlwind until he’d calmed her down and promised her she hadn’t been late.

“Right. Well anyway yeah, and that right there is my room.” She gestured to an open door and the flash of yellow he saw from beyond had him taking a step towards it without thinking. 

“Wait, don’t!” 

He grinned down at her when she stepped in front of him, her hands pressed to his chest. “What? You hidin’ something in there, Greene?” 

Her cheeks went all pink and she shook her head, “No, it’s just messy that’s all! I didn’t get a chance to tidy up-”

“Well I ain’t exactly afraid of a little mess,” he murmured, leaning into her hands a little bit; not just to tease her, but because the feeling of her slender hands against his chest was admittedly a good one. “You too embarrassed to show me, is that it?”

“No!” She flushed and nibbled on her lower lip as her gaze dropped to stare at her hands where they pressed to his chest. He had a second to wonder if she felt what he did, that same warmth from the touch, and then she was biting her lip and asking, “You really wanna see it?” She blinked those big eyes up at him when he gave her a slow nod. “Why?”

“Dunno.” Daryl slipped his hands into his pocket and gave a shrug of his shoulders. His head tipped down, hair falling into his eyes before he glanced up through it, but he was serious rather than teasing as he admitted, “Imagined it sometimes, I guess. What your room might look like. Y’ don’t have to show me, if you don’t want to.” 

But she smiled shyly up at him, a warmth in her eyes that was pretty damn distracting in his opinion. “You imagined my room before?” 

“Well yeah. Not inappropriately, or nothing…” Of course now that he’d said that, he couldn’t help thinking about what might be inappropriate ways to imagine her in her room. Judging by the flush to her cheeks he wasn’t the only one, so despite his burning ears Daryl quickly went on, “Just thought about it before, what your bedroom might look like. Kinda things you might keep in it, I dunno.” 

“It’s honestly not that exciting…” But she hooked her fingers around his room and tugged him inside, and he kinda thought maybe she was wrong. It wasn’t exciting in a jump up and down sort of way, not that he’d ever been the type of person to jump up and down. But seeing it was nice, because it was like seeing a part of her. This was where she slept every night, where she dreams, where she played her guitar and did her homework and gossiped with Amy.

(And maybe it was where she’d thought about him sometimes, too. Not that he’d admit to wondering, just like he probably wouldn’t admit to the nights he’d laid in bed with his hands behind his head unable to sleep, just thinking about her in the diner singing or laughing or smiling at him. Wondering if a girl like her would ever really look twice at a guy like him. He’d always thought no and yet here they were in her bedroom.) 

“Yeah this is definitely your room,” Daryl remarked with a chuckle as he rocked briefly back onto his heels. 

“Hey!” She stood beside him with her hands on her hips and a hint of fire and feistiness in her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

But Daryl just gave her a hint of a smile back. “Ain’t a bad thing, it’s just… you. The yellow walls, the fluffy white bed, the pictures everywhere, all them books…” He walked over to her desk, the surface around her closed laptop covered in papers with doodles and musical notes and what he guessed were lyrics. Definitely Beth’s, without a doubt. 

After a moment he felt her come up beside him and curl her fingers around his arm again, her slender fingers just barely reaching around his bicep. “You know, I’ve imagined what your room might look like, too.”

“Yeah?” Daryl looked down at her in surprise. 

“Mm. But it’s hard, imagining you in Mrs. Wilson’s place. Not that I don’t think you fit there, I just… I dunno. When I imagine you in a place that’s _yours_ , you know, like you think this room looks like it’s mine… I don’t imagine Mrs. Wilson’s place.” 

“No?” He turned a little towards her, fighting for a moment before giving in to the urge to reach out and tug a stray bit of hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek in the process and he cleared his throat at the little shiver of heat that went up his arm before he asked, “What do you imagine?” 

She pursed her lips together musingly for a moment as if considering it before she answered, “I guess the woods. Ever since you told me you like to hunt anyway, that’s what I see. You out in the woods.”

“Alone?” He swallowed and discovered there was something unexpectedly thick in his throat, something caught there all heavy and unsure as if brought on by the image of her imagining him all by himself. He didn’t know why. Half the reason why he enjoyed hunting was the peace it brought, away from all the prying eyes. Yet for whatever reason, he didn’t like the thought that when Beth imagined him somewhere he belonged, it was in the woods all by himself. 

But then she gave him a shy little smile and murmured simply, “No. Maybe not alone, not always.” 

Before he could think too much about mental images that sprung into his head of the two of them in the woods together by themselves (just him and her beneath the tree-awnings, surrounded by nothing but the babble of a brook and the distant chorus of chirping birds), Beth was curling her fingers tighter around his arm and tugging him back through the door. “C’mon! I figured we could make something to eat and then maybe watch a movie. How does that sound?” 

He smiled, and this time when he swallowed that thick sensation was entirely gone. “Sounds perfect. Though I gotta say, I ain’t a much of a good cook if it’s not burgers or fries..” 

“That’s alright, my Mama always said I was a great teacher. I guess I’d better be, right? Even if I don’t plan on teaching cooking when I graduate!”

* * *

A half hour later and he was pretty sure her Mama was right; Beth was a great teacher. Then again, maybe she was just good with him. The truth was it didn’t even feel like teaching or learning, it just felt like having fun with her. They made chicken and veggies, a recipe Beth said was her Mama’s and was probably even better back on the farm with fresh veggies from their garden and fresh chicken, too.

Daryl didn’t think it was bad at all, but then again he figured just about anything would have been good if he’d cooked it side-by-side with Beth. She was damn near adorable in the kitchen. (Well she was damn near adorable everywhere, honestly.) She has this pretty purple apron she insisted on wearing, with ‘kiss the cook’ written across it in loopy handwriting (she laughed and teased him he couldn’t kiss the cook just yet because it was too distracting), and she insisted on listening to music apparently whenever she was in the kitchen.

“It’s just more fun this way,” she exclaimed as she plugged her phone into her speakers and pressed played. Something with a hint of twang came through the speakers and he just watched, amused as she began to sway back and forth in front of the counters. She hummed along to the music as she worked, pulling the defrosted chicken from the fridge along with a couple vegetables from the farmer’s market that she placed on a cutting board.

He did his best to help her because the truth was, he was an okay cook. He did it for a living now after all, and he’d picked up more than his self-deprecating tendencies let on. The thing was, it was a lot more fun to watch Beth cook than to help her. She was kinda mesmerizing. There was something he just liked about the way her hair fell into her eyes when she cooked and how she’d brush it back only to leave a stray curl across her flushed cheeks. Or the way she moved with such ease, how she’d intersperse her instructions with stories about her Mama or her sister or her Daddy, or even her friends; this bright and easy chatter. 

His hand kept inching towards his new phone, pulling it out as if to take a picture only to get all nervous and unsure and stick it back to hide it away again. In the end Beth was so subtle about a solution that he didn’t even realize it _was_ her attempt at a solution until she was laughing and the spoon she’d balanced onto her nose (“quick, get a picture!”) had fallen off. After that she kept posing and making faces and he kept taking shots with his camera, and by the time the chicken and veggies were sizzling away on the pan half the photos on his camera weren’t even of her posing they were just simple, candid shots of Beth stirring the veggies, Beth staring dreamily out the window, Beth dancing and singing to herself… just like she was right now. 

“Oh I love this song!” She laughed happily as the track changed over and began to hum along with the first verse as she swayed into place. “ _I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June..._ ” As the song switched to the chorus, Beth’s humming slipped right into singing and she turned to face him, a smile on her bright face as she crooned, “ _...If you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too. No, I'm not asking much of you, just sing little darling, sing with me…_ ”

“Beth-” He broke off in a laugh as she stepped close and reached for his hands, “What are you doing?” 

“Dancing with you,” she murmured, guiding his hands to her hips as she sweetly sang on, “ _Now so much I know that things just don't grow, if you don't bless them with your patience. And I've been there before I held up the door, for every stranger with a promise…_ ” Her hands slid up his chest as she began to sway with him, guiding him into the best awkward attempt he could manage at meeting her rhythm.

“I told you, I ain’t much for dancing,” Daryl remarked roughly, fighting the urge to pull back and break away. The truth was that awkward and nervous as he felt, he didn’t want to ruin this moment. Didn’t want to lose the warmth of her body close to his and the light in her eyes as his hands settled on the gentle curves of her hips. 

“You’re doing fine, Daryl. Better than fine, honest.” The smile on her lips was soft and sweet, just like her voice as she held his gaze and sang in a hushed, quietly intimate tone, “ _I'll be your Emmylou and I'll be your June, if you'll be my Gram and my Johnny too. No, I'm not asking much of you, just sing little darling, sing with me…_ ”

He was dimly aware of the sizzle of the chicken on the stove and the smell of it in the air, just as he was faintly conscious of the music playing in the background behind them as Beth’s voice trailed off. But he was far more acutely aware of her fingers sliding up his chest to curl behind his neck, toying with the long strands of his hair as she tilted her head and looked sweetly up at him. 

What he was most aware of was the look in her eyes all warm and affectionate and a little bit longing, and the soft pink of her lips as she parted them in a soft sigh and leaned up on her toes to meet him. He didn’t need any further hint than that to meet her halfway and soon his hands were spanning her lower back as he drew her close, leaned down, and pressed their lips together in a soft kiss.

Unlike the others, this one lingered. It was slower and deeper, her lips parting against his until he could taste her against his mouth and right on the tip of her tongue. His hand brushed up to splay against her back as she murmured soft, content little noises into his mouth. It was all he could do not to give in to the urge to step back and press her to the counter, pin her between his body and the hard surface. His fingers curled into her shirt in anticipation just as he felt hers curl tighter into his hair. But as she arched in more and fitted her body against his, all soft curves against his hard lean lines… he heard a sizzling noise behind him and suddenly Beth was pulling away.

“The chicken!” She turned around and rushed to the stove leaving him standing there breathless and baffled, but only for a moment. Because as she reached down to move the pan off the flame she glanced over her shoulder at him and gave him a slow smile that had him riveted again, even more when she teased, “Next time we do that, we need to make sure there’s nothing on the stove. Sound like a plan?” 

He nodded, and grinned with lips that still felt warm from her kisses. Hell yeah, that sounded like a plan.

Then again, anything that involved kissing Beth sounded like a plan to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Beth sings is [Emmylou](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PC57z-oDPLs) by First Aid Kit. I can't stop listening to it so neither can she! Hope you all enjoyed.


	5. Camping, Capturing, and Knowing Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Beth take a hunting and camping trip for their fourth date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay in updating, I know my writing has been slow lately. It's been a bit of a stressful time. I hope this doesn't disappoint with the fluff you all love.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” His voice only had about a second to echo through the trees before Beth was turning towards him with a sigh.

“Daryl Dixon, that has to be the sixth time you’ve asked me that.” He raised an eyebrow at her as if to disagree, but she stood firm with her hands on her hips. “First time was last night when I asked if I could come camping with you today. The second was this morning when you picked me up, the third was after we grabbed breakfast at the diner, the fourth was as we headed into the woods, the fifth was about halfway through the woods and now, six, standing here in our camping spot.” 

He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. It was true, after all, he had asked her over and over again, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t like Beth was the type of person to agree to do something she didn’t want to. Maybe it was more that he was just amazed she wanted to at all. Maybe he was amazed she wanted to with him. Because just a week ago, the last thing he’d have expected was that the sweet, perfect, tiny blonde waitress he worked with (and had admired for several months) would want to be out here in the woods with a guy like him.

Then again, a week ago he’d never have imagined they’d have gone out together and eaten chinese food under the stars, or gone to a country fair, or cooked dinner and danced in her kitchen and later, curled up together on the couch just to watch a movie together. He’d never have imagined that he’d have kissed Beth Greene at all, let alone several times, including while curled up on the couch, later as she walked him to his bike to say goodnight, and even just yesterday behind the diner while they were working. 

Before he could say anything Beth just reached up, grabbed his arms, and looked up into his eyes with a smile. “Daryl Dixon, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than out here in the woods with you.” She smiled for just a beat more, and then nudged him with a little laugh. “Now come on, show me how to set up this tent or we’re gonna end up sleeping on the grass beneath the stars tonight.” 

He watched as she reached down for the tent he’d bought, but instead of helping her he just scuffed his foot on the ground and shrugged. “Wouldn’t be so bad, maybe.” 

Beth’s big blue eyes blinked up at him in sweet confusion. “What?”

“Sleepin’ on the grass, under the stars.” He looked up at the sky, the sun still high in it at the moment, as if he were imagining the night sky rather than avoiding looking at her for the moment as he went on, “Might not be so bad, y’know… with you.” 

It was the tug of her fingers on his sleeve that got him to look back down, and he felt silly for being so awkward about it the moment he saw the smile on her lips as she replied, “I don’t think it’d be so bad either. How about we set up the tent for practice, and then see how we feel tonight? I don’t think sleeping outside would be so fun if it rained…” 

Daryl nodded, but his brow furrowed as he tipped his head back and sniffed the air. “Don’t reckon it’ll rain, though.” 

When he glanced back down it was to see an amused look on Beth’s face as she questioned, “You can smell rain coming, on the air?” 

“Sure enough,” he drawled, with a faint smirk on his lips and the slide of his hand into his pocket. “Plus there's other things that help me tell.” 

He figured she would take it at that, but he’d underestimated her again. He needed to do a better job of remembering how curious Beth could be; about everything, but especially things that interested her. And him. The tent was forgotten at her feet as she looked from him to the sky and back again, and asked simply, “Show me?” 

So he did, pointing up at the sky as he remarked, “See how them clouds are higher up and sparse, mostly fluffy and white? Usually means it’s gonna be a good day. Lower, darker clouds mean rain, but I reckon you know that.” When Beth nodded and kept peering up at the sky with interest, he let his free hand come to rest on her lower back as he went on more readily, “You ever see clouds like streamers in the sky, we call ‘em ‘mares tails’, those usually mean rain in the next day and a half or so. Same for those clouds that look like big towers, you know, fluffy but real tall? Don’t know the name for ‘em. Then sometimes you get like, a patchy blanket of clouds, you know, like water all rippled or in rolls and patches? That sometimes mean rain is coming, too.”

He was amazed to find she looked riveted to the sky for a moment, almost like he could see the gears turning as she mentally noted it all down. Interest was bright in her eyes as she turned to him and asked, “How else can you tell, besides just the clouds?” Daryl might have shrugged it off, if it were anyone else or if he’d thought she was just asking to be nice. But he knew Beth didn’t do that to begin with, and besides, he could hear the curiosity in her voice.

So he told her more. He pointed to the sun and taught her how to look for red around it; how if she saw it in the East in the morning it meant rain might be coming soon. He told her about easterly winds usually meant a storm was coming, while westerly winds meant good weather, and he showed her how to check by tearing up a bit of grass and tossing it into the air. It was as Beth grabbed up a handful and flung it out that he found himself sliding out his phone again to take a picture. She was used to his new habit by now; last night at the diner she’d even come back and posed for him playfully a few times after she caught him fiddling with his phone. He was always torn between his new desire to capture moments with her- a feeling he'd never experienced before- and his desire to not look like a creep. Although Beth was usually quick to help him relax when she noticed, and she never seemed to mind. 

When she caught sight of him now, Beth flashed him a grin that had him shrugging sheepishly. He just couldn’t seem to resist now that he knew he could; every smile from her seemed to need to be caught in a photograph, not that he thought he could truly capture how pretty she was.

Clearing his throat as his slipped his sturdy phone back into his pocket, he said, “Tonight I’ll show you how you can tell what weather is comin’ by the campfire smoke, too. Oh, and look-” He broke off to point up at the sky, where a flock of birds was going by high up overhead. “Can always watch the birds, too. They don’t fly when there’s a storm comin’. Ain’t sure why…”

“Oh, I know that!” She sounded so excited that he chuckled, raising an eyebrow curiously until she went on, “I think it must be the air pressure. It changes during a storm, you know? I learned in my biology class at school that birds are sensitive to air pressure, I bet they fly low when it’s about to rain because of that.” 

“Huh.” He mulled it over, interested not just in the facts but the way she’d presented them so simply, as if she didn’t judge him in the slightest for not knowing the scientific explanation about them. “I ain’t know much about that. Don’t know the technical names or the clouds, or anything about… whatever the weather people say you know, air fronts and shit.” 

“Yeah, but…” Beth trailed off for a moment as she looked up at him and then smiled again, so soft and sweet as she said simply, “You’re so _smart_.”

He wasn’t sure what surprised him more; what she’d said or the way she said it like it was so obvious, so common sense. Maybe it was both of them that had him snorting and scoffing, “Ain’t smart. Just know things.” 

Beth raised a slow eyebrow at him, and he had just enough time to recognize the stubborn set of her jaw and the cross of her arms over her chest before she was replying, “What do you think being smart is, if not knowing things?” When he just stood there staring at her, she went on with surprising patience, “Daryl, you’ve got to be one of the smartest people I know.”

 _That_ got a reaction from him, although it was just another snort of disbelief.

“Seriously!” She smiled, but not like she was laughing at him or nothing. “Daryl you just showed me how to tell if a storm is coming by looking at clouds and birds and the pattern of the wind. On the way here, you found that stream we followed just by spotting animal tracks. I think that’s amazing!” 

This time he didn’t snort, though he did shrug. He didn’t know what to say; none of that seemed like intelligence or smarts to him. It was just things he knew, things he’d had to learn to get along and survive in the woods. It was things he’d picked up along the way. “That ain’t book learnin’, though,” he finally replied, hands in his pockets now and shoulders a bit hunched up, almost defensively, “Just stuff I know.”

“Yeah well, I’d rather have the stuff you know than book smarts any day, Daryl Dixon.” The look in her eyes defied him to challenge her, but he had no desire to, even if he couldn’t quite believe what she was telling him. His stance said as much even if he didn’t speak out loud; the dip of his head and the lift of his shoulders revealing his doubt at her words, and his own self worth. But Beth was right there running her hand slowly up his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. As he kept looking at the ground she leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and just like that his eyes were on her, right in time to see her give him a soft smile. “C’mon, now why don’t you teach me how to put together this tent, hm?”

She bent over to pick it up, flashing him a grin as she teased, “I’ll even let you take as many pictures of the process as you want, even if I look like an idiot trying to put it together.”

* * *

Twenty minutes and at least a dozen pictures later, they had the tent assembled and despite her joking, Beth had done a surprisingly good job at it. She was a quick study, picking up his instructions without him needing to repeat it. He’d already noticed how observant she was, and he was surprised to realize he was looking forward to seeing what other ways that might show itself.

The truth was that he’d been nervous about today ever since she’d confirmed that they were going hunting this weekend; that of course was what had lead to him asking again and again if she was sure she wanted to come. He wasn’t even fully sure why he was so nervous, except that maybe it was because of how important trips like this were to him. Before coming to this town and finding his new home with Mrs. Wilson and meeting Beth, there had been very few good things in his life. One of those things, arguably the largest of them all, had been his hunting trips.

Out in the woods was the one time he felt at ease, when he truly knew what he was doing and felt at peace; or at close to peace as he could get. In Beth he’d come to find something similar to that, a happiness and comfort in her presence that he’d never really felt with anyone before. It might have confused him and made him feel awkward, but he also really enjoyed it. The idea of the risk in combining the two made him unexpectedly nervous, because he kept imagining all the ways it could go wrong. What if Beth hated it out here, what if one of the things he liked doing most was something she ended up not being able to stand? What if she was only doing it to please him, and not because she wanted to?

In retrospect he felt like an idiot for being so worried. She’d been at ease since the moment they’d stepped into the woods and even though he’d kept asking, he’d felt his doubts slipping away more and more. Now he realized he was feeling almost eager. A hundred ideas flashed through his mind; things he wanted to show her, teach her, things he wondered if she might prove to be a natural at, or if she’d just simply enjoy them.

He _wanted_ her to enjoy them, he realized. He wanted her to like the thing that was his favorite past-time-- really, his only enjoyable past-time. 

The thought had him reaching out again, his hand sliding across her back in an uncharacteristically affectionate gesture. Beth turned towards him, leaning into his side in a way that made Daryl hum as he asked lowly, “So… you still wanna learn how to track?”

His newfound eagerness was only fueled further by the way she lit up with an instant grin. “ _Yes_!” He’d have wanted to take a picture, except she turned to him and twined her arms around her waist and well, he wasn’t about to let her go. When it came to Beth, the reality was always better than whatever he tried to capture on his phone. “What are we gonna track?” 

“Depends,” he replied with a chuckle. “On what we _find_ to track.”

“Oh!” She giggled suddenly, soft and bright as she pressed a little closer to him. “Well that makes sense. I just hope I don’t mess it up…”

“How would you even do that?” Daryl’s eyebrow raised, but a smile played about his lips.

“Probably by bumbling around like a fool and leaving my tracks all over the animal ones?” 

That had him chuckling again, his hands spanning her back and holding her against his chest as he teased, “Well in that case I guess I’ll end up tracking you, instead…”

“Oh yeah?” There was a playful look in her eyes all the sudden, something that stirred a warmth within him and had a hint of a growl rumbling in his chest as she teased, “What are you gonna do when you catch me, Mr. Dixon?” 

“Guess you’re gonna have to wait and find out…” His hands tightened at her lower back, but she was slippier than she looked; or perhaps just tiny and quick. Because unexpectedly he felt her slipping down and out of his arms, giving him a daring look over his shoulder before darting away with a giggle that echoed behind her.

That was how he ended up chasing her through the woods instead of a rabbit or a deer, although she wasn’t truly fleeing the way an animal might from a hunter. She was playing with him, darting here and there or hiding behind trees only to peer out at him and giggle before running away again. He didn’t fail to notice that she kept mostly to one direction, as if instinctively making sure she wouldn’t get lost. Even new to the woods, she had the sort of instincts he knew could prove her to be a natural. 

“Catch me if you can,” Beth called back playfully as she ran ahead of him, her blonde hair flying out behind her like a golden banner, even more of a lure than her sweet laughter. But it was her last teasing remark that really drove him, because there was no way he could let something like this stand; her calling back at him,“You getting slow, old man?” 

He put on a burst of speed and caught up just enough to slide his hands around her waist. In a deft movement he spun her and pressed her back against a nearby tree, pinning her between the trunk and his body as he looked down at her with a pleased smirk. 

“How’s that for an old man, hm?” 

His breathing had hardly faltered, though she was panting a bit more. Still she managed a slow grin as she looked up at him, shifting to use the tree at her back as leverage to gently press her hips against his as she murmured in a breathy voice, “You know I don’t really think you’re old, right?” 

Daryl was suddenly acutely aware of the length of her body against his, those soft curves finding a fit against the lean, hard lines of his own body. He was also very aware of the husky quality of her voice and the look in her eyes and the way he could feel the rise and fall of her chest… and, within a minute, he was also aware of the warmth of her lips as he closed the gap between them to gently kiss her. 

What began as a soft kiss unexpectedly deepened as Beth’s arms slipped over his shoulders to hold him close, and she arched up on her toes to meet him. Her lips parted against his and for a moment he just let himself get lost in it, his hand braced against the tree trunk beside her head as the other rested on her warm hip, her body fitted against his as he leaned into her and got the taste of her on his lips. 

When she broke the kiss finally to catch her breath Daryl stayed close, his forehead resting gently on hers as she looked up at him. Her blue eyes were the slightest bit darker, her kiss-swollen lips parting with her slightly panted breaths before she exhaled with a smile, “Nope. Definitely not an old man.” 

Well he wasn’t about to complain about that assessment.

* * *

Though their little romp through the forest had been fun, once Daryl realized she genuinely wanted to learn as well, he did his best to teach Beth more seriously. She kept surprising him and he was growing to realize how much he enjoyed those little surprises. Like the way she knelt down beside him to examine tracks in the dirt and made unexpectedly good observations about the tracks when he asked her what she was seeing. With a little nudging from him, she was easily able to pick out patterns and shapes, and he had a feeling that with practice she could be incredibly good at it.

Around midday they picked up the tracks of a rabbit that Daryl was pretty sure could lead them to a warren. With Beth at his side they moved through the forest after the tracks. Normally he would have been in complete silence, after all he had no need to talk to himself. If it had been anyone else he might have been annoyed to have the quiet interrupted; there had been several times he’d wanted to punch Merle for his big mouth running when he was out in the woods trying to hunt.

But not Beth. She was always different. He didn’t mind the way she hummed as she walked and occasionally sang snatches of songs, and he definitely didn’t mind her sweet voice cutting into the quiet with a new question. 

“So… no matter how far we go, you’ll remember where the campsite is?” 

“Mhm.” Glancing over at her, Daryl have an unassuming shrug. “Got a good sense of direction.”

As she walked along beside him, Beth asked musingly, “Is that something you learned? Or something natural?” 

He thought about it a moment, mostly because he never had before. It was just something he was good at, something that ‘was’, not something he had to think too deeply about the why of. He’d found, though, that he was thinking about the why of things more and more now that he had Beth around. “Reckon it’s sorta both,” he replied after a long moment. “Somethin’ kinda natural, but somethin’ you learn to be even better at, you know?” 

“I think so.” She smiled and her steps took her a little nearer to him, close enough that their arms brushed as she went on, “Kind of like how you can have a good singing voice naturally, but training makes it even better, and then you learn how to read music too…oh, like how you learned to read the tracks and signs!” 

He’d never thought of it that way but it was a good way to put it. It didn’t surprise him that Beth was the one to think of a comparison like that. At first Daryl just nodded, but after a few moments of walking in quiet he found himself going on softly, “Was always kinda good at it, but not great at first. Got lost in the woods once, as a kid. Wandered around for days. Natural instincts only go so far, y’know? Had to learn eventually, make sure I never got lost again if I ain’t wanted to, anyway.” 

It took him a moment to realize that Beth was slowly beside him, but when he glanced over he saw her looking at him with big, wide eyes. “You got lost in the woods for _days_? Your parents much have been so worried!”

Of course it was only now that he realized the depth of that story, all the things about himself that Beth had no real idea of. All the things he wasn’t sure he was ready to bring up at all, let alone here on what was supposed to be a fun camping trip. So maybe it was cowardly of him, but he couldn’t fully be blamed for trying to change the subject… could he? Whether he could or not it didn’t stop Daryl from doing it, pointing ahead suddenly and gruffly remarking, “Look. Tracks goin’ that way. Warren must be close…”

He felt guilty as soon as he did it, and even more when he saw the confused look on her face. But Daryl didn’t know what else to do. If it was anyone else he’d have been far harsher, but the problem was… it _wasn’t_ just anyone else. It was Beth. He found himself in the confusing situation of not wanting to lie to her, but also not being sure if he (or she, really) was ready for the truth.

Which was how he ended up stalking quietly through the woods with a perplexed but equally quiet Beth at his side, the sun shining down on them through the canopies of the trees. He had to admit, he appreciated that she wasn’t pushing, wasn’t questioning him or pressuring him to tell him more, or even trying to fill a silence that felt far less awkward than he’d expected. In fact even as he walked with his gaze focused on the tracks ahead, he felt her move closer to him so that their arms brushed together once more, and when he glanced quickly over at her it was just long enough to catch the soft, reassuring smile on her lips.

There was just something about Beth Greene. Something that made him feel more and more comfortable with her. Something that made him think that maybe, someday, he might feel comfortable telling her about his past, about what had made him who he was now.

For now though, it was better and easier to focus on the rabbit tracks as he came to a stop in a clearing. “Look,” he whispered, shifting to stand just slightly behind her and point over her shoulder at some low brush, with a hole just visible beneath it. “See there? That’s the rabbit warren. Now depending on how you’re huntin’, some people like to throw stuff down there, smoke ‘em out or scare ‘em. Always seems unfair to me, or dangerous. Best method in my opinion is to wait. They’ll come up soon enough.” 

He wasn’t wrong about that. It was a good fifteen or twenty minutes of the two of them standing there quietly, leaning against both a tree and each other, before they saw movement in the brush. Daryl straightened up carefully just as Beth did, lifting her head from his shoulder and straightening up too. 

It was only as he raised his bow nice and slow that he hesitated. It was only for a moment, but the thought flashed through his mind whip-quick… the idea of offering Beth the bow. It might have seemed a random, nice thought to anyone else. But Daryl had never let anyone touch this bow except for him. It was pretty much his prized possession, even above his bike (which frankly was really Merle’s). This bow was not only the one thing that was really _his_ , it was one of the things he knew confidently that he was good at. It was like a piece of him.

And he’d just imagined himself giving it to her, handing it over to her soft, sweet hands, letting her hold that piece of him, trusting her to do it right. There was a metaphor in that. He might now have had book smarts, but he knew enough to sense that… to _feel_ it. To understand that the idea of being comfortable giving Beth a piece of himself extended to far beyond just his crossbow.

The thought was put away after a second, but it didn’t fade completely. The image lingered in his mind as he lifted the bow, took careful aim and then, on the exhale, took the shot. Unlike any other time, this kill was punctuated by a soft clapping from the girl next to him, and even better when he turned to her he found her wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “That was an _amazing_ shot!” She exclaimed as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

It was only as she pulled back that she went on, “You’re incredible with that bow. I mean, not just that you look good with it-- you do. I just mean you’re such a good shot! I’ve never seen anyone use a bow like that.” Her gaze shifted from him to the bow and back again as a shy smile curved up her lips. “It might be interesting to try it, some time… although I doubt I could handle it as well as you.”

She couldn’t have known that he’d imagined that very same thing and yet there she was suggesting it, and it was no surprise that her simply-stated idea made the image grow even more in his mind. Beth Greene, holding his crossbow… the most important thing he had, pretty much. (Except his heart. And maybe, just maybe, he could imagine her holding that, too. Maybe she already did.)

He looked her over, blue eyes holding his own, and found the corner of his lips quirking into a smile. No… his crossbow wasn’t _the_ most important thing. Not anymore. The most important thing in his life wasn’t a ‘thing’ at all, anymore. 

“I reckon you might be able to give it a try next time,” he drawled as he crossed the wild grass to pick up the rabbit, pulling his arrow free and tying the carcass to his belt. Only then did he flash her another smirk and add playfully, “Might need to work on those little arms of yours first, if you want a chance of liftin’ it, though.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know my arms are stronger than they look,” Beth grinned and laughed. “Plus I got the impression you _liked_ my arms.” 

“Never said I didn’t, did I?” 

The truth was he liked every inch of her. Of course he did.

* * *

They ended up having the rabbit for dinner that night. Beth had helped him skin it, not even flinching at the sight of it to his surprise. She’d also helped him collected some nuts to roast it with, as well as some herbs to season it, which they added to some of the veggies she’d packed in a little tupperware container in her bag, ‘just in case’. 

The night was clear, so instead of climbing into the tent they spread out a sleeping back on the ground, unzipping it and opening it up so they could lay side by side together. Beth brought over a pillow, resting it loosely across herself as she twisted her body just enough to that her head was resting back against his shoulder and chest. 

At first Daryl had felt awkward, but it had only lasted a second. Unused to contact though he was, it just felt easy laying there with her, looking up at the stars. So easy that it made other things seem easy, too. Like the way his churning and twisting thoughts seemed to straighten themselves out, turning to simpler words that bubbled to his lips, “About earlier…” He ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat before settling his arm over his stomach. “Don’t want you to think you did nothin’ wrong, asking ‘bout a story I’d told you. Just… don’t like to talk about my past, is all. It ain’t pretty. Ain’t nothin’ like pretty.” 

Beside him he felt Beth turning slightly, her cheek pressed to his shoulder as her eyes sought out his in the firelight gloom. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, Daryl.” She said it so simply. Like it just _was_ simple. Most things were, with her, no matter how complex they felt. “We’ve all got things we don’t like to talk about. Even me. I do want to get to know you but never in a way that’d make you uncomfortable.” 

Her words made Daryl wonder just what it was that she didn’t like to talk about. Just what sorts of things a sweet girl like her might have in her past that she didn’t want to bring into the light just now. But then, she was right. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable either. If she could be so respectful of him, than he could be equally respectful of her. 

But as he looked at her lying there, hair spilled across his shoulder, face lit up by the light of the nearby campfire, eyes sparkling as she smiled softly at him… he couldn’t help murmuring, “Just so you know… I think I want to, some day. Be able to tell you things, I mean. And that’s… that’s somethin’, for me. Ain’t never wanted to tell nobody much of anythin’ before.” 

The smile that curved across her lips was even sweeter, and he could see the light of affection in her eyes as she looked over at him and turned onto her side to tuck herself closer. “Thank you. That means a lot, I know it does. And just so you know-” Beth leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment as she whispered against his skin, “I want to be able to tell you things, too. I know I will. Maybe sooner than you’re ready to tell me, but that doesn’t matter. As long as we’re both happy, that’s what matters.” 

Daryl looked at her then-- really looked at her, long and hard, studying her the same way he might study the forest for signs of tracks or marks, but even more intently. He studied her until the question came to his lips and spilled free before he could stop it, “ _Are_ you happy?” 

The tips of his ears went hot, but only for a moment. Only until she grinned at him and whispered back, “Happier than I’ve been in a very, very long time.”

And he was, too. Laying there with her beneath the stars, kissing her until they both began to yawn, falling asleep with her tucked against his side and a blanket over the pair of them… Daryl was happier than he had been in a very long time.

Probably happier than he had been _ever_.


End file.
